


Second Go

by dafeedil



Series: drug!verse [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Children, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Kink, Eventual Smut, Exes, Falling In Love, Family, Finally!, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Kissing, Lashton - Freeform, Lashton are engaged!, Light Angst, Lost Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nice!, Parenthood, Past Drug Addiction, Past Relationship(s), Past Substance Abuse, Protective Siblings, School Reunion, Sequel, Soulmates, Summer Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a lot of it, also!, falling BACK in love??, i'll add more tags if I think of them, malum, meeting an ex after years apart au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:40:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dafeedil/pseuds/dafeedil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael's still devastatingly beautiful, is the thing that sucks the most. His eyes still glisten when the sunset reflects against them, and the way his porcelain skin looks coupled with the ocean visible through the passenger side window makes Calum want to run his fingers over the boy all over again. Michael's touch isn't something he ever thought he'd want to feel again, but in this moment, Calum can't think of anything he's ever yearned harder for.</p><p>
  <em>Or, Calum goes back to his hometown with the intent to attend a high school reunion, but what he gets instead is a second chance at love.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ithinkitsautumn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithinkitsautumn/gifts).



> wow okay. I can't really believe I was able to make a sequel for something as heavy as Oil and Water??? I can only hope this lives up to your guys' expectations.
> 
> This goes to Autumn, who helps me when I write more than she really knows. (That's right, I gifted it to you anyways. Take the damn gift. Happy Graduation.)
> 
> Playlist that depicts the mood and story (again, made by me and Autumn) can be found on Spotify [here](https://play.spotify.com/user/dafeedil13/playlist/5KUbxr9VAXkn8H4Whq1K18)

**"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."**

* * *

 

When Calum steps off the plane at Sydney Airport, his first thought is that nothing's really changed or looks any different. He doesn't know why he'd expect it to; it's only been five years since he left the city. Probably he just hasn't looked hard enough—there's bound to be new buildings and such outside of the airport itself.

He sees his sister almost immediately after getting through the gate, a grin overtaking her face that's nearly identical to his own. Mali's bouncing in place, arms outstretched as she not-so-discreetly motions for him to run into them. Calum chuckles at her ridiculousness, but nonetheless slings his duffel bag higher up on his shoulder so he can run to her. He crashes into her eagerly, hugging her tightly to him because she's his every inspiration and he hasn't seen her since she graduated University and moved back from Melbourne two years ago. She clings to him, too, swaying them back and forth right there in the middle of baggage claim.

"I missed you," Mali tells him, pulling back but keeping her hands on his shoulders as she takes in his appearance. He takes in hers, too, her chestnut colored hair that's sweeping the lowest he's ever seen it on her. She probably hasn't cut it since he saw her last. Also, he's taller than her, _finally_ , instead of standing at the frustratingly exact same height like they had back at school. "How was the flight?"

"It was okay." He shrugs. "And I missed you more," he adds honestly. She smiles softly, giving him a ruffle of her fingers through his hair.

"This is getting shaggy. You're like a little dog," she giggles.

Calum clicks his tongue, swatting her away fondly. "Don't be rude, I could literally get back on a plane right now." He smiles to show he's joking, but she's rolling her eyes and scoffing because she already knows he was.

"You won't, though," Mali states, and she's right. Calum's missed home too much to head back to Melbourne before his week in Sydney is up. Plus, he's not particularly keen on going back to an increasingly unstable job that pays substantially lower than his degree qualifies him for. "Now come on, let's get your suitcase."

They wait for a few minutes at the carousel before Calum's bag comes around. He grabs it, but his sister _insists_ on wheeling it out to her car—the Mondeo she purchased last year and didn't stop talking about on their Skype calls for a full week. He compliments the vehicle the second she unlocks it to throw his suitcase into the backseat, and the beam on her face when she thanks him is totally worth all of his pretending to enjoy talking about the car so often. He loves seeing her happy.

He climbs in the passenger seat, buckling up and sighing heavily as he sinks into the smooth leather. Mali gets in and starts the car, steering out of the parking garage cautiously. She lets him have his quiet time, doesn't even say a word until they're on the motorway and Calum initiates a conversation.

"How's mom and dad?" He asks her, watching as she shrugs and flicks on the turn signal to merge over a few lanes.

"Decent. Mum's working from home a lot more these days, trying to get Dad to retire already." She gives Calum a knowing sideways glance, and he laughs, because it's so like their father to work until he physically can't anymore. Then, Mali adds, "They miss you lots, Cal."

Calum sighs, feeling guilty. He knows he should've kept in better touch, that he should've come home at least _once_ in the five years of his absence. And it's not that he didn't want to. He just got so caught up in University and job hunting and attempting to make a life in Melbourne that he lost sight of the people important to him somewhere along the line. Mali's the only one he kept in regular contact with.

"I know, Mali," he spits, exasperated. It was hard enough to come back to this damn city with so many memories in the first place. He doesn't need to be shamed for the little things on top of that, at least not yet.

She chews on her lip, hand fluttering towards the radio to turn it up in lieu of the awkward silence. It makes Calum feel worse, that he's made Mali uncomfortable, and so he clears his throat before she can turn the music up. "I'm sorry. Just...you know how I feel about being back here."

His sister reaches over, patting his knee comfortingly. "I know, I know. I'm proud of you, though, Calum. For coming back."

He feels himself blush, and he squeezes her hand once before she draws it back to the wheel. "You hardly gave me a choice, reminding me every other goddamn day," Calum teases, and Mali snorts.

"It's your high school's five year reunion, Cal! You _have_ to go, you'll love it. I loved mine." She's rambling a bit, but Calum doesn't mind. "Besides, you _know_ Luke will about shit himself when he sees you."

Calum's heart swells at the mention of his best friend, someone else he hasn't seen since high school graduation. They'd kept up with occasional emails at first, but lost contact somewhere during the second year of Uni and never made moves to repair it. At the time, Calum hadn't minded, preferring to cut out any and all memories of the summer that ruined him. Not that any of it had been anywhere _near_ Luke's fault, just. The reminder itself was too much.

He doesn't answer Mali, and he doesn't think she expects him to. It's silent again for the duration of the drive, which comes to an end when Mali pulls into her apartment complex parking lot. She'd moved out of their parents' house last year, insisting when Calum was buying his plane tickets for this trip awhile back that since she had her own 2-bedroom space now, Calum just _had_ to stay with her instead of living under the watchful eyes of their parents for a week. He hadn't complained, eager to sleep in a bed that didn't hold memories of so many restless nights like the one in his childhood bedroom.

The apartment has no elevator, which is less than awesome since Calum has to lug his surprisingly heavy suitcase up three flights of stairs. Mali's chatting him up excitedly the whole time, and he rolls his eyes at least twenty times whenever she pauses at the top of the stairs to ask if he needs any help.

Other than the rather inconvenient stairway, everything about his sister's new pad is ace. She's got a decent spread—a kitchenette that connects to the living room, as well as three doors in the hallway that must signify the bedrooms and bathroom. She shows him to the guest room, which is decorated rather plainly, but he loves it all the same. He thanks her, and she shuts the door behind herself on the way out so he can get settled.

He stands in the middle of the room for a few seconds, holding his breath without even realizing he's doing so until he hears Mali turn on the radio in the kitchen and he expels it loudly.

It's weird, being back, even though he's in a completely different living environment. But in spite of that, it all feels scarily similar, the way the summer humidity seeps into his skin and makes him feel sticky no matter how many times he showers. The way he can sort of always smell the ocean, even though his bedroom window is shut and Mali's put in one of those plug-in air fresheners.

The way he can't pretend everything was fine after Michael left town that summer.

Calum shakes his head, trying to filter that memory out, but if anything the movement only amplifies the feeling of painful nostalgia. He's got so many moments filed away that he experienced with the boy that summer before year twelve, moments that he's tried to wipe from existence in order to make room for happier experiences with more positive people. But nothing's ever that easy, and Calum's never forgotten, of course he hasn't. It's part of the reason it was so hard for Calum to muster up the courage to come back to Sydney. Even though Michael's long gone, Calum still feels like he sees the boy's face everywhere.

Frustrated with himself, Calum plugs his own iPod into the portable speakers he's brought, turning up the volume until he can't possibly hear himself think anymore before he opens his suitcase and changes into something more suitable for lying about his success in life since graduation to people from five years ago that he doesn't even care about.

******

It's so incredibly like his school to host a five year reunion in the old gymnasium rather than at a nice venue, so Calum can only laugh when he pulls into the campus' car park and sees the 'Welcome Back Class of 2013!' scrolling on the marquee out front. He parks the Mondeo as close as he can get so he won't have to walk very far, smoothing his white button-down as he double checks his pockets for his wallet and cell phone. When he verifies that he has both, he locks the car, starting towards the gym's entrance that he still knows all too well.

He sees several people arriving with dates, mostly spouses or significant others, and Calum feels somewhat out of place having shown up alone. Maybe he _should_ have invited Mali along, even though he'd shot her down every time she offered to go with him.

The music inside is loud, but thankfully not as bad as it had been in high school. It's not that dark, just a few of the lights dimmed to create more of a lounge effect. Not that Calum's fooled—the squeaky hardwood and lines of a basketball court below his feet just solidify this fucking John Hughes nightmare come true that he's in right now.

Calum looks around, observing some of the people surrounding him. He actually recognizes most of them, whether they’re from classes he'd taken or parties he'd attended. He avoids eye contact with the ones he knew from the parties, too scared of what he might see of his former self reflected in their gaze, were they to recognize him back.

He's about to make his way towards the open bar when he hears an unmistakably clear: "Calum Hood?!"

Calum freezes, cursing himself silently before he turns around slowly.

And what he sees is not what he expects.

For one, the boy (more a _man_ now) doesn't have fringe anymore, it's a mop of honey colored curls that's getting so long it lays in waves rather than ringlets. Second, he's exchanged the horrifically awkward sweaters and v-necks for form fitted t-shirts and army jackets.

But that radiant grin is still exactly the same, as are those friendly hazel eyes that sparkle when Calum immediately remembers who he is.

"Ashton Irwin," Calum says in disbelief, sticking his arm out for a handshake that Ashton completely bypasses in favor of a bear hug. Which Calum's actually somewhat embarrassingly eager to return, clapping his hands on Ashton's back firmly.

Ashton pulls back a few seconds later, taking in a quick recollection of every way that Calum's physically changed since graduation. The boy's always been good about things like that, cataloging people's appearances and names so that he always catches on right away if they were to wave to him in passing one day _years_ down the road.

"I didn't think you would be here, man, how the hell have you been?" Ashton asks giddily, crossing his arms over his chest and widening his stance. He looks like he's getting comfortable, ready to stay there and hold conversation with Calum for awhile.

The brunette shrugs, half a smile on his face at the familiar twinge of happiness that conversing with Ashton gives him. "I'm solid. I actually wasn't planning on coming back for the reunion, but my sister made me."

Ashton tosses his head back, a honeyed laugh roaring out of him. "Sounds like your sister." When he winds down a few seconds later, he furrows his eyebrows, a worried frown settling on his lips. "But why weren't you going to come back? Big fancy job got you worked to the bone back in Melbs?"

Calum indulges him with a chuckle, not bothering to mention that his current job is so shaky it's likely they'll have replaced him by the time he flies back to Melbourne at the end of the week. He doesn't think anyone really needs to hear how hard it is for him to find work that actually makes him happy out there.

Luckily, he's saved from having to answer, because a man a few inches taller than Ashton is slinking up behind him, muttering out a "What's so funny over here, huh, babe?"

As soon as he speaks, Calum's jaw drops and his heart stops. And nearly immediately after that, the biggest grin Calum thinks he's ever managed takes over his face, and he feels a million times more whole than he has in the five whole years since he left for Uni.

"Luke," Calum whispers, and his best friend looks from Ashton over to him, realization washing over his face in under a second. Calum swears he sees tears well up, darkening the baby blue color of them, and Luke lunges forward, attacking Calum with a hug even bigger than Ashton's. But Calum just gives it back eagerly, squeezing Luke's waist and not letting go until the blonde boy pulls back.

"Calum, holy shit. It's been fucking _years_ , mate, what have you been up to?" Luke's eyes are full of wonder, not leaving Calum's face for even a second, like he can't believe the boy is real. At the same time, though, Luke's looking at him like they're just picking up right where they left off years ago, like Calum _didn’t_ just stop replying to his emails. Calum loves him for it, even loves Ashton for it, too.

"Apparently," Ashton inserts, "being some sort of hot shot in Melbourne. He said he wasn't even going to come if Mali hadn't made him."

Calum rolls his eyes. "I didn't say I was a hot shot. But," he smirks, "he's right about having to be convinced. It's just, y'know, I was under the impression that having had a student body president like Ashton, we would've had a reunion that _didn’t_ feel like a reject prom."

Luke howls, eyes wide as he looks to the curly haired boy like he expects him to fire something back. Calum actually expects him to as well, but Ashton says nothing, just rolls his eyes and reaches out to punch Luke's shoulder teasingly.

And that's when Calum sees it.

The light reflects off the ring just so, soft enough that Calum probably wouldn't have even noticed had it not happened at just the right moment. He reaches out, grasping Ashton's wrist and turning the man's hand so the palm is facing away from him. And sure enough, right there on the designated finger, is a single silver band with the faintest engraved design on it.

"Lucas Hemmings, you dog," Calum says, jaw dropped, as he continues to inspect Ashton's ring. "When did you two decide to get hitched?"

Ashton blushes, but doesn't pull his hand away, probably stupidly eager to show off the ring even if he's embarrassed that Calum's making a show of it. Luke just grins proudly, kissing Ashton's temple before he replies, "Few months back. We'd been on a break for a week or so—"

"Which was _so_ incredibly dumb, by the way." Ashton interrupts, clearly still annoyed by the event.

Luke rolls his eyes fondly, continuing. "—and after we realized we were pretty much endgame for each other, I asked him right on the spot. Gonna make it happen sometime next year." He takes Ashton's hand from Calum, pressing his lips to the silver band lovingly. Calum simultaneously wants to coo and vomit.

He always sort of suspected deep down that Luke would end up with Ashton for the rest of his life, they just...they made too much sense _not_ to. They're perfect for each other in every sense of the word, at least in the parts they let Calum see. He's smart enough to know that there are entire personalities to each of them that only the other gets to see behind closed doors, and he's okay with that. He's just glad to be with them again.

So Calum tells them that, because he knows they're the kind of cheesy little shits that love it. "It's good to see you guys again."

As expected, both boys beam, and Luke says, "It's good to have you back, Cal."

  
What sucks the most about being an adult in the working world is that Calum can't ever sleep past eight AM anymore. Hasn't been able to for a couple years now, like as soon as he turned twenty his internal clock shifted to a 9 to 5 schedule. He wakes up almost right on the hour, sun streaming in and pummeling his face with heat and light, which makes him groan in frustration before he drags himself out of bed just to escape it.

Mali's already awake, sitting on the couch in the living room with her knees drawn up to her chest and a novel in her hands. It looks like she's been up for hours already, but he knows she hasn't when she looks up to smile at him and ends up yawning instead.

"G'mornin'," Calum hums to her, shuffling into the kitchen and scouring the cupboards for coffee grounds and a mug.

"Morning. There's no coffee," Mali informs him, taking her reading glasses off and dog earring the page of her book before she closes it. "I don't drink it anymore, and I didn't know you did. Sorry."

Calum sighs, more tired than annoyed, but he waves her off to tell her it's fine. He'll probably need a nap around noon if he doesn't have some caffeine—God, that makes him sound _ancient_ —but he'll forgo it so that Mali doesn't feel bad.

His sister grabs her car keys off the coffee table where he'd put them last night after he got back from the reunion, and she tosses them to him from across the room. He barely registers in time to catch them, and when he does so successfully, she gives him a wink.

"You can take the Mond to go get some, if you want," Mali offers, "as long as you come back with doughnuts."

Calum accepts that challenge, saluting her before he exits the apartment, still in his t-shirt and black sweats.

******

He takes a bit more time than necessary just driving around, lingering at the stop signs and letting his eyes wander around the familiar city. Nothing really looks any different—confirming what he'd thought when he got off the plane yesterday—and it's comforting to know that even though he's done a lot of changing, his old stomping ground hasn't.

The fact that he knows every building in this part of Sydney like the back of his hand is the reason he so easily picks out a new shop that he's never seen. He almost drives right past it, but the number of cars parked outside and the grungy aesthetic lures him in, and he finds himself pulling into the lot and entering the café before he's even thought twice about it.

The little coffee shop is even nicer inside, with soft 90’s rock playing over the speakers that he could really get behind. It's busier than it looked, pretty much wall to wall with people sitting at their tables, sipping out of their coffee cups and engaging in easy conversation. Calum likes it a lot, decides he'll definitely have to bring Mali here sometime since she's all about the hole in the wall venues that look like they should be holding a slam poetry night every Wednesday.

He walks up to the barista, a girl of probably about sixteen. She offers him a bubbly smile, one that doesn't seem rehearsed, and he likes that, too.

He places his order—just the coffee of the day with extra cream—and stands off to the side, waiting for his name to be called. It's when he's leaned against one of the steel pillars in the middle of the room, scrolling mindlessly through his phone, that something tugs softly on his pants and says to him in a small voice: "Hey."

Calum jumps a little, surprised, and he looks down at the assailant. It's a small human—female, to be specific—her mess of curly hair putting her at just barely under the height of his hips. She's looking up at him with big green eyes, some of the brightest Calum thinks he's ever seen, and she points to his shirt as soon as she sees she's gotten his attention.

"My daddy has that shirt," she tells him proudly, quirking her eyebrow as though she's daring Calum to disagree with her.

He chuckles, looking down at his clothing to verify that it's still the faded Green Day shirt he'd been wearing when he went to bed last night.

"Well," Calum says, winking at her. "Your daddy has excellent taste."

The girl smiles, a little spaced out what with a couple of teeth missing, but still adorable. She turns to scamper off then, and Calum is about to unlock his phone again when suddenly she calls out "Daddy!"

Calum's eyes widen, head swiveling around him to make sure everyone knows he hasn't even touched this kid. Nobody pays him any mind, really, they just sort of glance over before bringing their mugs back to their lips and turning away.

"Sir?" A new voice asks, and when Calum looks to it, he finds the barista holding out his cup over the counter. He sighs in relief, reaching out to grab it so that he can get out of this café that much faster.

He's only barely gotten his hands on it when the small girl from before is reemerging from behind the counter, this time dragging someone behind her. Calum looks up over her small arm, to the much larger hand in hers, and then trails his eyes up the arm of the obviously male body following behind her.

And when he gets to their face, three things happen.

First, his heart stops. Immediately afterwards, he drops his coffee on the floor, the hot liquid exploding out of the cup.

And then, Michael whispers "Holy shit."

Calum can't say anything back, the few words he's able to conjure up in his head nowhere near coherent enough to emit. Everyone's definitely looking at him now, at the mess he's made on the floor, but nobody says anything. Or maybe they do, but all Calum can hear is his blood rushing through his head.

He wonders briefly if this is how people suffering from PTSD feel when they wake up from their nightmares. Terrified, with an impending sense of doom crashing down around them. That's how Calum feels now, like he's suddenly drowning and unable to save himself.

Because for the first time in six years, since the summer before year twelve, Michael Clifford is less than ten feet away. It's too close. Calum thinks he'd probably need an entire year of seeing him from a full _mile_ away before he'd be ready to move an inch closer. And now Michael's so close Calum can see his still present eyebrow piercing, the texture of his now bleached blonde hair, the increasing redness in his eyes from whatever he's repressing and his pink lips that are spread apart in shock.

He doesn't know how long they stare at each other, or if it's even long at all. But he's dragged back into the present when he hears the little girl gasp out, " _Daddy_ , don't swear!"

Calum almost faints right there, another wave of distress washing over him at those words. Michael looks down at her, patting her dirty blonde curls and muttering out an apology. "Sorry, Rockstar." Michael tells her, glancing uneasily back up at Calum before removing his hand from hers and caressing her cheek. "Can you wait in the office for me? I need to tell this man something."

The little girl furrows her eyebrows, looking between her father—holy shit, her _father_ —and Calum, and it's then that Calum can really see the resemblance. Their eyes are identical—he can't believe he didn't see it before—and from what he's seen of Michael's old family photos, her hair matches the color of his natural tone almost one hundred percent.

"Are you friends?" She asks, and Michael makes a hurt noise, probably supposed to be a laugh for her sake.

"You could say that," Michael replies, even though nobody could say that. Calum doesn't think they were ever actually friends; they just jumped right into the sex and the drugs and eventually the feelings and heartbreak without ever going through the most crucial element— _knowing_ each other.

Satisfied with his response, Michael's daughter runs off to the back rooms of the shop, leaving Calum with the feeling that they're all alone, even though the cafe is still bustling around them.

Michael just looks at him, _stares_ , even. He's probably taking in everything new about him, same as Calum had been doing. Calum's gotten several tattoos along his left arm since high school, and he can feel the heat of emerald eyes trailing over them, observing them.

"You came back," is the first thing Calum says to him. Michael looks a bit sheepish, shrugging slightly, and Calum can't help but notice his hard, careless exterior from high school is long gone. Or maybe it's still there for others, but he still lets Calum in. Maybe he always will.

"Years ago." Michael replies simply, toying with one of the bracelets on his wrist. Calum looks up over his torso, noting the name tag he's wearing that has his name printed under 'Manager'.

"You work here?" Calum asks, making small talk, avoiding the elephant in the room as blatantly as he can.

Michael sighs heavily, taking a ghost of a step forward, but it's too much. It spooks Calum like he's a fucking dog skittering away from the vacuum, and he backs up against the pillar.

"Calum, please," Michael begs, but it doesn't sound right. His name rolling off of Michael's tongue makes it real, makes it impossible to think that maybe all the pain he felt when Michael left him alone in Sydney six years ago was something he made up.

"Not right now," Calum whispers, turning and rushing outside. He doesn't realize he's sweating until he climbs into Mali's car, the pungent smell of coffee that has soaked into his shoes filling up the air around him. He throws the car into gear, peeling out of the lot a bit too aggressively, ignoring the urge to spill tears the entire way home.

When he walks back into the apartment with his sweatpants soaked around his ankles and neither a coffee nor box of doughnuts in his hand, Mali gives him a curious look, but doesn't say a thing.

He doesn't really know how to get out of bed for the rest of that day or the entirety of the next. Mali brings him food that he picks at, but for the most part he doesn't even eat much of anything. And although Mali doesn't interrogate him at all, Calum can sense and see that she's remembering, reminded of how he acted this exact same way throughout that infamous summer. When Michael got his hands on Calum.

He'd intended to fly back to Melbourne come Saturday, but now that he's seen Michael again, he's not sure how he could do that. There's so much to say, too many questions swirling in his head, and the way Michael had pleaded with him to stay and hear him out (although not in as many words) tells Calum that Michael is thinking the same thing. Even though Michael _wrecked_ him, they had too much to pretend they're not the least bit curious how the other has gotten on in life.

So when his third day in Sydney rolls around, he forces himself to get out of bed and drags himself into the shower. He scrubs all of the grime and worry out of his skin, drying his hair with the towel so roughly afterwards that it'll undoubtedly be frizzy and fluffy beyond belief. His hair is the last of his worries, though, when he changes into jeans and a proper flannel, because he's about to face the hardest thing in his life.

He's about to see Michael, but he's actually _planning_ on it this time.

Mali lets him take her car again—bless her, honestly—and he drives in the direction of the café somewhat subconsciously. He feels like he's on autopilot, like everything is mechanical and like maybe he's not actually 100% aware of his actions.

It's not until he's parked in front of the shop that Calum realizes the lot is practically deserted. Checking the time on the dashboard, he sees that it's late afternoon, probably well past time for the café to close up. But he can see movement inside the store, can see the profile of one person that he spent so many hours tracing and memorizing so that if this day ever came, he'd know the boy's body no matter the circumstances.

Calum pushes open the door of the car, trudging up the sidewalk and up to the café entrance. He tugs on the door, which is locked, as suspected. The signs on it bang against the clear glass with the force of Calum wiggling it, though, and the noise must be louder on the inside since it causes Michael to look up from whatever he's doing behind the counter.

The brunette bites his lip, looking down at the handle and pulling again. When he spares a glance up, Michael is walking across the shop, flicking the lock to the door and opening it slightly.

"We're closed, y'know," Michael says softly, tapping on the 'Closed' sign hanging in the window. His voice has a bit of a joking lilt to it, though, so Calum can't help but sigh when a small smile tugs on his lips.

"I see that. Sort of needed to see you, though."

Michael nods, bleached fringe falling into his eyes as he steps back and holds the door open wider. Calum steps in, letting Michael shut and lock it again behind them. They don't move afterwards, just sort of stay where they're at, trying not to stare at each other too overtly.

"I, uh," Calum starts roughly. He clears his throat before he tries again. "I'm sorry I ran out the other day. It was just hard, you know? I wasn't ready yet."

The blonde shrugs dismissively. "It's okay, I don't blame you. I wasn't really expecting to see you, either. Not then, not ever. Sort of thought you were gone for good."

Calum chews on his bottom lip, looking down at his thumbs and spinning them around each other. "I wanted to be. I came back for the high school reunion because my sister made me. Was gonna fly back to Melbs on Saturday."

Michael stares at him until Calum has to look up again, and his green eyes are alight with something that looks a lot like hope. "Are you not doing that anymore?"

Calum huffs out a defeated laugh. "How could I, Mike? I saw you for the first time in _six_ fucking _years_ , and had absolutely no idea what to say. I needed to, like...I had to know how you've been."

"I'm, well," Michael sputters, obviously taken aback by the lack of hostility he must've been expecting Calum to dish out. "I've been really fucking good, Cal. I'm in a good place."

The nicknames are quick to reappear, and neither of them shut it down. Maybe it's just nice to have something familiar, something not completely foreign.

"You have a kid." Calum states, no real question behind it.

Michael nods, giving Calum an unsure gaze like he's trying to gauge his opinion on that fact. "I do."

"What's her name?"

"Isabella."

Calum feels his heart flutter, matching the name to the little girl's curly blonde hair and sparkling ivy eyes. He can't even _see_ another name on her, it's so perfect. "That's beautiful," he tells Michael.

The blonde smiles brightly, looking down at his feet. "She's wonderful."

Calum smiles gently, and Michael smiles right back, an easiness that comes so naturally it's almost scary. Being together was never this effortless back in high school, but maybe that's got a _lot_ to do with the fact they were almost always high together back in high school.

"I actually have to pick her up from my neighbor's place; he's been watching her all day. Told him I'd be back by five." Michael heads over to the counter, reaching behind it and grabbing a shoulder bag. He slings it up over himself, spinning keys to what must be the café on his index finger as he walks back to join Calum at the entrance. "You're, uh...you're welcome to come with me, if you want. We can finish our conversation?"

Calum nods, unsure whether it's because he'll get a chance to say all the things on his mind or because he's getting the chance to see Michael in a whole new light. Before he can decipher, though, Michael is smiling and ushering him out the door so he can lock up.

"Mind if we take your car? I took the bus this morning, so unless you want to just meet me there..." Michael trails off, clearing his throat, but Calum just waves his hand to motion for the blonde to follow him. He unlocks Mali's car, climbing into the driver's seat and watching as Michael settles in beside him.

It's weird, driving with Michael, especially because the sun is out and they're not desperately getting off like they would've been six years ago. A lot's changed since then, Calum realizes, more than he would've really thought. Michael's almost like an entirely new person, one that doesn't look at him with glossy eyes or speak to him with tired words.

They stay quiet for the most part, just the faint music from the stereo playing in the background when Michael occasionally pipes up to give him directions. The streets are busy, and the traffic could be better, but every time they're stuck at a light Calum finds himself not really minding, because it gives him a few more seconds to look at the boy he used to love sitting beside him.

Michael's still devastatingly beautiful, is the thing that sucks the most. He's still got a defined jawline, padded with just hints of softness that if Calum thinks really hard about he can still feel the phantom shape of against his lips. His eyes still glisten when the sunset reflects against them, and the way his porcelain skin looks coupled with the ocean visible through the passenger side window makes Calum want to run his fingers over the boy all over again. Michael's touch isn't something he ever thought he'd want to feel again, but in this moment, Calum can't think of anything he's ever yearned harder for.

"Make a right up here, and we're there," Michael instructs, and Calum nods before doing so. He parks where Michael tells him so he won't get ticketed, then follows the blonde up onto his porch. The building looks quaint, one story brickwork with just two doors out front that must belong to Michael and the neighbor he'd mentioned.

He waits off to the side while Michael rings the buzzer, perking up at the sound of a dog barking. There's some scuffling on the other side of the door, and Michael shifts a little on his feet before the sound of a lock unlatching precedes the door being pulled open.

An older man—probably in his late sixties—is stood in the archway, a cane in one hand and a pink backpack in the other. He's wearing a blank expression directed at the blonde boy, and even Calum can sense some hostility there.

"It's a quarter after." The old man spits, and Michael sighs, defeated.

"I'm sorry, Ed. Traffic was nuts, I would've been on time." Michael sounds a bit like he's pleading, rubbing his temple with one hand and holding his bag in the other.

Ed looks like he's about to throw some nasty remark back, but he's interrupted by a happy squeal of "Daddy!"

Michael visibly relaxes, falling to his knees and allowing the girl from the coffee shop, his daughter, to run into his waiting arms. Even from the outside, Calum can tell this is Michael's favorite time of the day, the time when he sees his daughter after hours of work and an ass chewing from her babysitter.

"Rockstar! How was your day?" Michael asks her, a smile on his face so wide it almost hurts Calum's mouth to look at it. The little girl is wearing an identical one, teeth all spaced apart and cheeks rosy.

"We finished reading Charlotte's Web. Ed says if I can finish a whole chapter by _myself_ , we'll watch the movie!" She sounds absolutely ecstatic about something so simple, but Calum supposes those are the perks of being as young as she is. Everything is amazing and life changing, and nothing can dampen your spirits.

Michael holds out his fist, and she bumps it, giggling wildly when he blows it up and makes an exploding noise. The blonde stands up, shaking the old man's hand and thanking him profusely as he takes the pink backpack from him.

Once Ed's shut his front door, the little girl is suddenly aware of Calum's presence, looking up at his face with narrowed eyes while Michael starts unlocking his own apartment. She keeps staring when Michael ushers her inside and Calum follows, shutting the door behind them.

"Iz, don't stare, it's rude. This is Calum." Michael informs her, motioning backwards to the brunette. "Calum, meet Isabella."

"You're the one that spilled the coffee, huh?" She accuses by means of a greeting, and Calum smirks. He likes her already.

"Yeah, that was me." Calum tells her.

"Are you eating dinner with us?" She flicks her long curls out of her face, crossing her arms over her chest. It's actually alarming how intimidating she is for a small child, so Calum coughs before looking up at Michael.

The blonde just shrugs back, setting his and Isabella's bags down on the coffee table before heading into the kitchen. "Up to you, Calum."

Calum chews his lip, fully prepared to say no and offer to get out of their hair, but Isabella doesn't look to be taking no for an answer.

"Well, I guess I could spare a minute. What are we having?" He asks her, and he definitely doesn't miss the faint smile that ghosts over Michael's lips at that.

******

Dinner turned out to be less than gourmet, just a couple of cheese toasties and sweet peas that Michael whipped up within ten minutes. It was the eating that took the longest, though, what with all of Isabella's rambling stories that had no real end along with her full recollection of every book she's pretty much _ever_ read.

But it was nice, seeing the way Michael beamed at her every time she furrowed her eyebrows in thought, trying to remember an important scene from five chapters previous, or the way Michael reached over with his fork and clanked it against her plate between sentences to remind her she wasn't getting out of eating her peas just because her stories were so distracting (her responding pout had Calum giggling to no end).

When Michael ushers Isabella down the hall to get ready for bed a few hours later, Calum takes to wandering around the small living room. It's pretty standard, for the most part, a cheap television and a couch that only sits two people. There are several framed photos on the wall, all of them either of Michael's parents or of Isabella. It's so domestic, so contradictory to the old Michael, that Calum wonders for an unreasonable second if maybe this isn't even the same boy at _all_.

A stack of chips on one of the shelves catches his eye, and when he picks them up, he notices the engraved numbers on them, counting up to four. When he flips one of them over and reads the word 'recovery' written on it, his entire heart warms, and he's pretty sure he feels tears welling up behind his eyes.

"Four and a half years and counting," a voice says from behind him, and Calum turns quickly to see Michael leaned against the wall between the hallway and living room.

"Wow," Calum whispers, staring back down at the coins. He clacks them against each other briefly before setting then back on the shelf where he found them. "What, uh. What changed you?"

Michael tenses, but Calum knows it's only because he doesn't like the reminder of what he was like before. How he'd just gotten into shooting up with heroin when he left Calum alone in Sydney the night before year twelve. How he'd spent that entire summer snorting and smoking and inhaling, all with Calum too eagerly by his side.

"My little girl."

Calum nods. He knew Michael would never have gotten clean for him, knew that as soon as they'd fallen for each other and Michael wouldn't allow them to say so aloud.

He finds himself thankful for Isabella, then, because she saved his boy from impending doom, without even knowing she'd done it.

Michael makes a few steps forward then, until they're just feet apart. "I was wrong by you."

Calum's throat tightens, and he starts shaking his head to defend Michael, even though he knows he shouldn't. Even though he knows Michael treated him horribly and sort of really wants him to take credit for it. But somehow that makes it worse, acknowledging their history. Makes it almost as painful as it had been back when it all happened the first time.

"No, Calum. I was _wretched_ to you, and I'm so fucking sorry." His voice cracks, and Calum watches as he swallows so hard his neck tenses. "I don't ever expect you to forgive me. I didn't invite you over to try and beg for forgiveness, I just needed to see you again, for as long as you'd let me."

Calum reaches up, brushing Michael's fringe away from his face. His body reignites, needles prickling across his skin at their first physical contact in six years, and he realizes the fire he's had for Michael never really went out, just dulled.

"I already forgave you, Michael. I wasn't going to be able to make you stay with me, and I accepted that years ago." He frowns, bringing his hand down to cup Michael's cheek softly. "I just haven't _forgotten_ , and that's the hard part."

Michael reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a faded leather wallet. He opens it up, sifting through dollar bills before he finds what he's looking for.

When he pulls it out, he smiles at it fondly before turning it around to show Calum.

It's a Polaroid, one that's dirty and crinkled with how many times it's been refolded and admired. And in the middle of the white frame is a picture of Calum from that summer, from that night in Michael's old car, the one with his head thrown back as Michael had ground against him.

"You kept it?" Calum wonders, looking past the photo and back to Michael's eyes.

The blonde smiles softly, folding the photo back into his wallet. "I never forgot you either, Calum."

Calum wakes up to an incessant ringing around seven o'clock the next morning, covers strewn about on Mali's guest bed sloppily. Tiredly, he pushes himself up, rolling dramatically across the king sized mattress before palming around the nightstand awkwardly until he grasps what feels like his cell phone. Without checking the number, he swipes right to answer it, holding the phone to his ear as he collapses back into the pillows.

"Hello?" He yawns, voice slurred since his mouth is practically buried in the sheets.

"Calum!" Comes the chipper response, clearly Michael. And that, well. That wakes Calum right up, his eyes springing open as he jolts up to a sitting position.

"Mike? How'd you know my number?" He asks, grinding the heel of his hand into his closed eyes in hopes of rubbing some of the sleepiness away.

There's a brief silence, probably Michael replaying the situation in his head and trying to find a viewpoint where he _doesn’t_ look like a creepy stalker. Not that Calum thinks he's one, just.

"Never deleted your number." Michael says dismissively. "I knew you'd never change it, so, yeah. I was wondering if you'd be interested in getting some breakfast with me?"

Calum smiles in spite of himself, burying his blushing face into the crook of his arm like that'll make him feel less like a fucking schoolgirl being asked out by her crush, but he still says yes.

******

The diner is pretty busy, the mindless chatter and clanking of silverware on plates overpowering the sizzling in the kitchen and sixties music playing over the speakers. It's homely, and their waitress has already been along three times to fill up their coffee before they've even received their food.

It's quiet at their table, though. Calum's sat in the booth across from Michael, picking at the wrapper from the straw that came with his orange juice. The idea of breakfast together seemed a lot more inviting over the phone, but now that they're here, Calum can't help but feel a little awkward. They'd never even attempted anything close to a date before, so it's unnerving. Not that this _is_ a date, just. It's weird, being out to eat with the boy that never even wanted Calum over to his house unless he'd checked to make sure his parents weren't home first.

It's obvious that Michael's not going to initiate anything, so Calum tries. "Where's Isabella?"

"Ed's." Comes Michael's immediate response, like he's been waiting for Calum to say something. "She usually stays with him while I'm running the shop, so I just told him I had some business to take care of there."

Calum nods. "Running the shop. So you own it?"

Michael gives him this shrug, accompanied by a sigh. "Kind of? It's not officially in my name or anything, but I do almost everything to keep it going."

They're awkwardly quiet again after that, up until their food arrives and it transforms into a more comfortable silence while they pound back the food. Calum's halfway through his third pancake before he takes a sip of coffee and says, "Michael, is it weird if I ask you about Isabella?"

Michael frowns, rubbing the back of his neck and setting his fork down. He avoids Calum's eyes, fingers tugging at his napkin to occupy his nervous hands. "Look, Calum. I slept around a LOT after I left Sydney that summer."

Those words settle heavy in the pit of Calum's stomach, twisting and churning until he feels sick with the idea of Michael being with other people. Not that he's totally innocent, he dated casually at Uni a couple times, it just hurts to think about.

"I got with people who didn't mean a damn thing. Several of them." Michael hones in on the napkin he's been messing with, like it's the only thing helping him keep his cool. "But that little girl means _everything_ to me. She's the _one_ good thing to come out of all my mistakes." He looks up at Calum then, a redness in his eyes that makes Calum's heart lurch. "So _please_ , don't discredit me when it comes to Izzy. She's the one thing I got right."

Calum smiles softly, reaching across the table and settling his hand over Michael's shaking one. When he looks into his eyes and whispers "I would never", he means it.

Michael visibly relaxes, settling back into the booth and picking up his fork again. "So, what've you been up to? You graduated Uni last year, right?"

The younger boy feels himself falter a little, hoping Michael's too preoccupied with scooping up hash browns to notice. "Uh, yeah." Calum starts. "Been looking for a good job ever since, but it's like nothing's sticking, y'know? Nothing feels like where I belong."

Michael quirks an eyebrow, but it's not accusing. "If it doesn't feel like home, don't stick with it."

Calum shrugs, pulling at the thin threaded bracelet on his wrist. "Nothing's felt like home in a long time, Mike." What he means is nothing's felt like home since Michael left, but he doesn't say that, and the way Michael's hands shake tells Calum that he got the message loud and clear anyway.

The blonde looks like he wants to make a comment, but Calum can see him swallowing the words back as though he's not sure it's his place to say them.

Before Michael can refigure the phrase in his head, Calum redirects the conversation. "What about you? What've you been doing since you came back to Sydney?"

Michael smiles. "The coffee shop mostly, and taking care of Iz. She's gonna be five in a couple weeks, you know." Calum releases a slow whistle, a testament to how much time really has passed, and Michael chuckles. "Yeah, crazy, right?"

"You'll be five years clean soon, right?" Calum asks, and Michael blushes like it's something to be embarrassed about. Like it's not a massive achievement.

"Couple months after Isabella's birthday, yeah. Got sober after she was born, since her mother didn't seem keen on doing so." Michael's jaw tightens at the obviously not too fond memories, then keeps going. "Started going to some narcotics anonymous meetings once I got her back here just to make sure I stayed on the wagon. Been there so long that I sponsor like six other people now."

Calum's eyes widen in shock, but he can't even help the smile that overtakes his face. He feels so fucking _proud_ of Michael, of everything he's achieved for himself at the sake of taking care of a kid. Of this new person he's become, this man that has the ability to love unconditionally, for all the right reasons this time.

It feels a lot like starting over.

  
"The _zoo_?" Mali asks him three days later, while he's sat at her breakfast bar and she's making tea in the kitchen across the counter from him. "Why would _you_ go to the zoo?"

Calum rolls his eyes, scooping a large spoonful of cereal into his mouth so he doesn't have to answer her right away. He needs to come up with some reason that he'd be going to the zoo by himself, a reason that's not 'Michael texted me last night and asked if I wanted to go with him and his kid'. A reason that won't result in Mali smacking his head and telling him not to be an idiot.

He doesn't really think of himself as an idiot, though. He thinks Michael's changed a _lot_ , and he also thinks that Mali would like him if she met him now. But Calum knows his sister, knows that she'd piece Michael's identity together as the same boy that broke her brother's heart six years ago, and it would all snowball downhill.

So he can't tell her he's meeting up with Michael and Isabella, because she'd want details, and then Calum would never hear the end of how he's going to get his heart stomped on all over again.

Truth is, Calum's not exactly sure if he's going to come out of this with a broken heart or not. He thinks it's probably wise to keep a comfortable distance to prevent that from happening again. The impossible lowness he'd felt all those years ago (and throughout the entirety of all those years leading up to now) isn't something he really wants to go through again.

"Like, the _zoo_ , that's so gross. Zoos are smelly, Calum. I don't want you to stink up my apartment with the animal shit stench lingering on your clothes." Mali throws her head back dramatically as she sets the kettle on the stove to boil.

Calum crinkles his nose in disgust, leaning over the counter to drop his mostly empty bowl into the sink. "Don't be vulgar, I'm not going to come home smelling like animal shit."

"Zoos smell like shit, Cal. You're going to come home smelling like shit, too."

He huffs, not 100% defeated, but something close to it. "I'm going anyway. Just light some more of your girly candles or something. Maybe I'll use one of your foofy bath bombs to wash all the animal stank off me," he teases, and her resulting squeal of repulsion is worth it.

"Not _my_ bath bombs, you won't. I'll personally go out and buy you some before I let you touch my stash." Mali scolds, putting one of her ginseng packets into a mug. "Now really, why are you going to the zoo by yourself?"

Calum panics, pulling hard at the leather on his watch underneath the counter where Mali can't see. He scans through quick excuses, and then spits one out almost as soon as he lands on it. "Inspiration. Hoping maybe some nature watching will get me in the mood to do some job hunting again?"

Mali glances over at him, a subtle pout on her lips. "I wish you'd look for a job in Sydney, Cal. We all miss you. Luke and Ashton would love having you stick around, you know."

He gives her an indecisive nod, and she sighs, but doesn't question him further, so he shoots out of his chair and heads to his room to change.

******

The Taronga Zoo is the biggest in Sydney, and the only one with a giraffe exhibit that's "up to par", according to Michael's text last night. When Calum gets off the bus (which he had to take since Mali called dibs on her _own_ car, the fiend), he sees the ticket booth queues filled up nearly a mile long. He almost groans out loud when he approaches, getting out his phone to text Michael and inform him he's going to be another fifteen minutes.

But before he can even find Michael's contact, someone's calling his name, and when he looks up, he sees Michael and Isabella standing near the entrance. Michael's waving Calum over animatedly, and even though Calum doesn't _really_ want to give up his spot in line, he decides to walk over anyway.

"Calum!" Isabella cheers, and Calum offers her a wink before lowering his hand for a high five. She winds up and throws her force into the smack, which doesn't hurt too bad even with all her four and a half year old might.

"Bella, how you feelin'? Excited?" He asks her, and she giggles, pulling a disposable camera out of her little pink backpack. She shows it to Calum, who gives it his best attempt at pretending every aspect of the object is completely new to him.

"Daddy got me this for today, so we can print them out to put in my room," she explains matter-of-factly.

Calum grins, giving Michael a sideways glance before he says, "Yeah, your daddy's always liked taking pictures."

Michael clears his throat, shifting on his feet before digging around in his back pocket. He retrieves three pieces of paper, handing one out to Calum. "I, um, I sort of bought your ticket for you? I knew the lines would get outrageous, so."

The brunette takes the ticket gently, inspecting it briefly before looking up at Michael. "You didn't have to do that. Here, let me pay you back." He pulls his wallet out of his pocket, about to open it and dig around for some cash, but Michael just pushes the leather away and shakes his head.

"No need. Just being a friend." Michael gives him half of a smile, just a twitch before it's gone, and then he reaches down to take Isabella's jittery hand. "Now c'mon, these animals aren't going to photograph _themselves_ , are they, Rockstar?"

******

Calum falls a bit in love with Isabella at the zoo, with the way she's so excited that she's taking pictures too rapidly, and Calum knows they're going to develop blurry, so he takes the camera from her on the defense of "I'm taller, I can get you _professional_ pictures, Bells." And she buys it, handing it over eagerly before she runs to press her face and hands against the glass of an exhibit. Michael cringes as she does so, digging around in his pocket for a portable hand sanitizer and forcing her to use copious amounts before she even _thinks_ about touching her face.

He falls in love with the way she uses two hands to hold the lemonade Calum bought her (since according to Michael, that's _so_ much healthier than a soda. Calum encourages him to look at the sugar content in a lemonade, but Michael just waves him off and says 'No soda, Calum!'), and he falls in love with how she holds it a little too close to the lid like all reckless kids do.

More than anything, though, he falls in love with her as Michael's _daughter_. With the way she gets sleepy on the walk back to the car, up on Michael's shoulders and yawning into his bleached hair. He even falls in love with the way Michael just _lets_ her, even though it's undoubtedly messing up the hairspray and tangling it up unnecessarily.

It's quiet in the car on the ride home, since they've been walking around all afternoon and it's nearing seven now. They stop to get Bella some Macca's, but she's out like a light in her booster seat before she's even gotten through half of her fries.

That leaves Calum and Michael without their buffer again, without little Isabella jumping around and making chaos in the best way, without her giving them plenty of distractions when it gets too uncomfortable.

But it doesn't feel uncomfortable now, even though Isabella's asleep in the backseat and there's no music playing at the risk of waking her. Calum feels at peace, a little bit at _home_ for the first time since Michael left and made Sydney the least homely place in Calum's world. At the risk of disrupting that, Calum doesn't say anything, and neither does Michael, who's looking out the windshield as he drives with a sparkle in his eyes that Calum hasn't seen before. At least, not in the right light.

When they pull up to Michael's apartment, Calum's feeling brave, so he offers to carry Isabella to bed. Michael gives him a fond look, nodding before he gets out of the car and grabs their souvenirs from the zoo. Calum opens the backseat while Michael goes to unlock the front door, reaching in carefully to unlatch her seatbelt. She stirs softly, snuffling a bit, but otherwise remains asleep.

Calum smiles at her sleeping form, scooping up under her knees and around her small back, lifting her out of the car bridal style. He bumps the door closed with his hip, starting towards the apartment with Isabella cuddling into his chest. His heart feels swollen.

Michael watches from the kitchen when Calum starts down the hallway, finding her bedroom easily. He struggles to locate her bed in the dark, but eventually he gets it, kicking the covers back with his foot before laying her down gently against the mattress. Her unconscious body seems to recognize it immediately, turning over and curling her face into the pillows.

He beams, a smile so big on his face he's sure it could get stuck that way. He doesn't even think he'd mind if it did.

"Goodnight, Princess," Calum murmurs to her, pressing a soft kiss to her messy curls. Then, guided by the faint glow of her nightlight, Calum exits her room.

Michael's waiting in the living room, curled up to make room on the small sofa with a mug of tea in his hands. There's another one on the coffee table, and it's an invitation if Calum ever saw one. He accepts it quickly, grabbing the hot mug and plopping down beside Michael, making sure to leave several inches between them so they're not touching.

"Thanks for coming today. She loved having you there." Michael says over the rim of his cup, and Calum gives him a faint smirk.

"I had fun," Calum replies, looking down at his feet. What he _means_ is he had fun being with _Michael_ , regardless of if Bella had been there or not. He's glad that she was, because he got to see this sparkling little side of her that craves every new piece of knowledge in the world, but the thing is he's just glad Michael wanted to be with him. In public, in the daylight this time, because he's not ashamed like he was all those years ago. He's not afraid to _feel_ anymore.

He doesn't make a move to tell Michael that, because the fact is it hurt. It hurt _so_ badly the first time around and he's scared of what would happen if Michael were to reject his theory. If Michael were to shoot him down and tell him it was all for Bella, that Michael didn't even really _want_ Calum there.

But he's even _more_ scared about what it might mean for them if Michael _didn’t_ reject it. If Michael told him it was all for Calum and he wanted to start over.

The thing is, he's just scared in general, because he didn't just fall in love with Bella today.

He fell a little bit back in love with Michael, too.

"Spinach or kale?"

Calum groans. "Is neither an option?"

Mali turns her head around to face him, narrowing her eyes. "We can't eat like barbarians if you're going to keep staying with me."

Calum rolls his eyes, pouting ineffectively. "I'm _sure_ barbarians ate lettuce, Mali."

Following his sister through the grocery store aisles makes him feel like he's ten years old again, if Calum's honest. But she's right—they can't eat like they're on vacation if Calum's not really vacationing anymore. He'd changed his ticket home to a month down the road as of yesterday, telling his sister it was because he was going to start looking for work (and _not_ because he wanted to spend more time with Michael and Bella). He even offered to book himself a hotel so as not to impose, but she's assured him that was nonsense and he could stay with her until he was on his feet properly.

The only compromise had been she go back to her regular cooking, instead of the pizza and cereal they'd been indulging in all week. And so they're here, with a half assed grocery list of food that's been deemed healthy enough.

"See, Cal, that's—lettuce is _not_ the same thing as spinach or kale." Mali spits, waving him off before pushing the cart in the direction of the leafy vegetables.

"They're all green, though." He defends.

She groans in agony, reaching for a bag and filling it with what looks like spinach. "Cucumbers are green, too, but those aren't the same thing as lettuce."

Calum snorts a laugh, flicking her ear before scampering past her. She calls out to him like a mother afraid to lose her child, and the squeaking of wheels on the floor seconds later tells him she's taken off after him.

He slides into an aisle filled with snack foods, grinning when she turns down it behind him and scowls. "No," she says, before he can even open his mouth.

"C’mon, Mali, just like, _one_ bag of chips." He pleads, and she just laughs.

"Maybe," she shrugs, leaning close before punching his shoulder. "If you tell me who you've been sneaking 'round with all week."

Calum nearly chokes on his own spit, eyes wide as he looks back at his sister's smug face. "What?"

Mali rolls her eyes. "Oh please, Cal. You don't have to lie to me. You came home from the 'zoo' the other day looking like a damn lovesick puppy. Who've you been seeing?" She nudges him with her elbow, probably hoping to prod the answer out of him. "Someone from the reunion, maybe? An old crush who finally sees you as more than the huge dork you are?"

He doesn't even have the ability to be offended in that moment. And he wants to tell her about Michael, he _does_ , but that sinking feeling in his gut that tells him she'd figure out the blonde's previous involvement in Calum's life is still there. He knows she'd swear Michael off and lecture Calum just as cruelly for making the same mistake twice.

And Calum respects his sister, he does. He values her opinions and approval more than almost anyone's. But Michael's so different now, and he _needs_ to make sure she can see that before he brings the boy forward. Needs to make sure _he_ can see that clearly, that he's not just blinded by past feelings and old flames.

"Mali, stop." He says flatly. "I'm not seeing anyone. Drop it, yeah?"

She looks taken aback, but she nods solemnly, muttering an apology for something she really doesn't even need to be sorry for.

Calum's cell phone goes off around noon the next day. Mali's been off at work for a few hours already, doing some summer camp workshop at the elementary school she teaches at when classes are in session, so he's alone in the apartment with some reality show on the television while he fucks around on his laptop.

He reaches over to the end table without removing his eyes from the screen, unlocking it mindlessly before holding it to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Calum," Michael says, sounding panicked.

Calum frowns, sitting up straighter and practically shoving the Macbook off of his lap. "Mike? What's wrong?"

There's some shuffling on the other end of the line, then the sound of what has to be Isabella shouting for him. "I'm so sorry to bother you, I just. There's a fuckin'—sorry sweetie—a freaking _major_ water leak at the café."

"Oh," he says, eyebrows furrowing. "Did you need me to go help you? I'll be honest, I know next to nothing about plumbing."

"No, no, I can handle it. I just...Ed's busy and I _really_ don't want to bring Iz down there with me when it's so hectic." He trails off, and there's more scuffling—probably Michael trying to restore order to his chaos.

Calum quirks an eyebrow. "So what are you asking me then, Mike?"

Michael sighs heavily, and Calum can practically see the older boy rubbing his temples and closing his eyes tight. "I'm asking you to _please_ come babysit Isabella for me? Just for a few hours?"

The brunette grins, already standing up to make himself presentable. "I'll be over in twenty."

******

He doesn't even get much of a greeting when he arrives, just a small wave and a slap of appreciation on the shoulder as Michael flies past him shouting "Thank you!"

Bella's just sitting on the couch, mindlessly watching cartoons and snacking on some baby carrots Michael must've begged her to eat. She perks up when she sees Calum standing there, an adorable smile spreading across her face. "Cal!"

"Bells!" Calum enthuses, rushing her quickly and picking her up. She squeals, smacking his back weakly when he throws her over his shoulder and shakes her like a sack of potatoes. "Whataya want to play today?”

She pauses her mild assault, clearly pondering their various options. Seconds later, she lights up, springing back and forcing Calum to hold her so that she can look at him. "Princesses!" She exclaims.

Calum laughs, raising his eyebrow at her. " _Princesses_? I'm no princess, Bells."

Bella tugs on his hair sweetly. "No, silly. You'll be the knight, _I’m_ the princess."

He makes an over the top 'duh' gesture, using his free hand to smack his forehead like he should've seen that coming. It makes Bella smile even wider, squirming until Calum sets her down. She runs out of the room, returning seconds later with a plastic tiara on, handing a wooden sword to Calum. He takes it, pretending to test the weight of it in his hand.

"Now I'll go hide in my tower, and you come rescue me!" She directs, covering his eyes with her small hands until he replaces them with his own. "To ten," she tells him.

He starts counting down slowly, and he hears her excited noises as she runs away to hide, likely in her own room. He'll still pretend he doesn't see that coming, though, saving it to be the last place he looks for her.

******

The whole babysitting gig is something Calum could probably get used to. The kids like you better than their own parents most of the time, all they do is play, and then they _sleep_. And once they're asleep, you kind of have the right to fall asleep, too.

Okay, maybe he doesn't have the _right_ to, but Bella crashed on his chest while they were watching Tangled, her tiara lopsided and tangled (ha) in her curly mop of hair, so Calum can't really help himself. He lets his eyes slip shut for just a _second_ , and then he's out like a light. Four hours of rescuing princesses and fighting imaginary dragons takes a lot out of a guy.

He almost jumps out of his skin when someone prods at his shoulder, his eyes shooting open as he instantly clutches Bella to him tighter. But there's no need to panic, because it's _Michael_ kneeling down beside the couch, a contented smirk on his face and a look in his eyes that's so bright it almost blinds Calum.

It's the happiest he's ever looked, Calum realizes. Happier than the way he appeared at the zoo, or when he sees Bella after a long day at work.

No, right _now_ is the happiest Michael's ever seemed, staring at Calum in the dim living room, one hand on the brunette's shoulder and the other on the small of his daughter's back. In that moment, that old summer feels light years away. Like for once, it's actually behind them and doesn't even count because _this_ is how they were always meant to be. _This_ is how they were supposed to find each other. And Calum realizes that he _really_ wants to share this with the people that matter to him, because it's all right this time. Michael's words all those years ago, when he told Calum he'd always want him no matter what, finally _mean_ something. Calum finally believes that he might.

So he quietly asks, "How would you feel about meeting my family?"

He's half expecting Michael to reel back and say no or maybe just panic, but all the blonde does is smile. "I'd like that more than anything, Cal."

(And if he really wants to kiss Michael in that moment, it doesn't matter, because he doesn't have the guts to do it anyway.)

Luke and Ashton's house is quaint, a one story in a cookie cutter neighborhood complete with stucco work and brown trim around the roof and garage. There's a little flower bed out front and a neatly mowed lawn that Ashton probably spent hours slaving over, and their car is parked in the driveway which tells Calum their garage is most definitely still filled with boxes from whenever they moved in.

The smell of whatever dinner is cooking greets Calum the second he opens his car door, only intensifying as he starts up their flagstone walkway. He's in the middle of trying to decipher between the smells of basil and rosemary when the front door swings open. It reveals Ashton, the chef himself, his messy curls thrown back in a bun and some ridiculous Kiss The Cook apron on. He looks like the epitome of a househusband, but Calum's willing to bet that's probably the point.

"Hey there, Paula Deen," Calum jokes, winking as Ashton gasps in horror.

"First of all, how dare you." Ashton scolds, turning his nose up like he's actually offended. "Secondly, I'm not as problematic as Paula. I'm a _personality_. I'm like, a Rachael Ray. A Martha Stewart. An Alton Brown." He smirks afterwards, opening his arms for a hug that Calum immediately gives him.

"You watch too much Food Network." Calum informs him.

Ashton shoves him away teasingly, waggling his index finger in Calum's face accusingly as he shuts the door behind them. "Don't knock it, Barefoot Contessa is providing your entire dinner."

Calum can't even help but laugh, rolling his eyes fondly and sliding out of his shoes. Ashton offers to hang his coat up for him, and Calum lets him because he can tell Ashton's putting everything into being the perfect host. Not that he needs to be, Calum loves him just for the effort alone.

"Is that Calum?" Luke calls from the other room, muffled slightly from the television that must be on.

"Yeah, babe," Ashton hollers back, smiling practically just from Luke's voice alone. Calum almost calls him out on it, but thinks better of it because he'd be lying if he said it didn't warm his heart to see his old friends still stupidly in love. He watched it happen six years ago, it makes him believe in real happiness to see them continuing to make it work.

"Well, send him my way!" The blonde laughs, and Ashton smiles to himself before pointing Calum in the right direction.

Calum sets off down the hall towards the living room, where he finds his best friend sat on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. There's a beer bottle in his hands and a game of footy on the television, and Calum almost snorts at their clichéd relationship.

Luke raises the bottle as soon as he sees Calum walk in, adjusting the beanie covering his normally quiffed up golden hair. He stands to give him a one armed hug, which Calum revels in before plopping down on the couch beside him.

"Have you been keeping up with the season out in Melbourne?" Luke asks, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a swig.

Calum shrugs, eyes glued to the game. "Not as much as I should, probably."

Luke turns to look at Calum, the game seemingly the last thing on his mind when he says, "I was surprised when you called. What made you decide to stay in Sydney a few more weeks?"

The brunette bites his lip, looking down at his hands. He shouldn't be nervous, he really shouldn't. He called to ask Luke if they could hang out because he _missed_ his best friend, but he should've known Luke would want an explanation. Not that Luke would ever want him to leave, but it only makes sense that Luke would wonder why he was staying around when he seemingly wanted out so badly after graduation. Luke knows Calum better than he knows himself sometimes, that's the point. They haven't been best friends since childhood for nothing.

"I, uh. I met someone?" Calum sputters, and Luke's mouth drops, but he doesn't look horrified. In fact, there's a huge grin fighting its way through the shock almost immediately, and then he's slugging his best friend in the shoulder.

"You _met_ someone?! Holy shit, Cal, that's awesome!" Luke exclaims, setting the beer on the coffee table and perking up like he's settling in for a game of twenty questions.

"Lucas!" Ashton hollers from somewhere in the house—likely the kitchen. "Don't swear!"

Calum laughs immediately, clutching his stomach while Luke rolls his eyes lovingly. "Sorry, baby," he throws back, before directing his attention back on Calum. He speaks more lowly, probably so Ashton won't hear him inevitably swear again. "When the fuck did you meet someone? Why didn't you _tell_ me?"

The brunette blushes, tugging on a fray in his jeans. "I knew him once. It just took off. Didn't tell you because I wanted to be sure it was working before I made it official."

"So is it?" Luke inquires. "Official, I mean?"

Calum can't help but notice the way Luke hasn't pressed about the sly mention of knowing Michael in the past, meaning he's probably in the clear. It's not likely Luke knows who Calum's talking about if he hasn't said anything yet.

"Not really. But I don't know, I think maybe it could be? That's some of the reason I'm here, actually. Aside from the fact that I wanted to catch up with you, obviously." Calum says slowly, carefully.

Luke is practically vibrating with excitement. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Calum answers. "I want you to meet him, I think."

Luke's out of his seat in milliseconds, punching the air and ruffling Calum's hair afterwards. It's so elementary, but it reminds Calum how fond he is of his best friend, of the reason he missed him so bad it made his chest hurt whenever he thought about it.

"Well, while we're on the topic of big news, I have something to ask you." Luke announces, lowering himself onto one knee in front of where Calum's seated.

Calum laughs a little, shoving Luke's shoulder and making him sway. "Don't mean to burst your bubble, but haven't you already proposed to someone? I can't marry you, Lukey, Ashton might kill me."

Luke rolls his eyes so hard Calum wouldn't be surprised if it actually hurt to do. "Shut up, you moron, or I might reconsider."

The brunette smirks. "Why do I feel like you're about to make me an offer I can't refuse?"

"Because I _am_ , if you'd shut up and let me make it."

Calum pulls his lips into his mouth, mimicking zipping them shut before tossing away the key. Luke chuckles, before a more solemn expression takes over his face.

"So, as you know, I'm marrying the love of my life in a few months—no, don't roll your eyes, asshole. I'm marrying my _soulmate_ , and now that you're more willing to be within a hundred miles of Sydney, I'd really, _really_ like you to be there, Cal. I want it more than anything. And obviously I'd still marry Ashton if you weren't there by my side, but it wouldn't feel as special." Calum can see tears welling up in Luke's eyes, but he keeps quiet. "So, I guess, what I'm asking is for you to pretty please, with a cherry on top, be my best man?"

Calum grins so wide his face hurts, pulling Luke into a tight hug and squeezing him so hard that the blonde starts squirming, but he's still laughing while Calum tells him he'd be honored over and over again.

And all at once, Sydney feels like a place he could call home again.

"You said I was meeting your _family_ , not Luke and Ashton!" Michael hisses when Calum breaks the news to him in Michael's kitchen a couple days later. He's in the middle of making lunch, but he's completely stopped stirring the mac and cheese in favor of gaping at the boy standing across the counter from him. "Calum, c'mon, that's like setting me up for failure."

Calum shrugs, feeling a little bit guilty. It's true; he'd asked Michael how he'd feel about meeting Calum's _actual_ family, not his best friend and his fiancé. But it sort of goes hand in hand, Calum thinks, and Michael should definitely meet the other important non-biologically related people in his life. That is, if this new... _thing_ between them is going to progress at all.

"Michael, it's not setting you up for _anything_. I know you, I know what you're like now." He bites his tongue on the 'It doesn't matter what happened in the past' that almost slips out with the rest of his words, because it _does_ matter. It always will, Calum can't just forget that. That's why he's having Michael meet the people he loves this time around. Because they skipped over it all those years ago, and it sent them through a shit storm. "So it's going to go just fine."

Michael sighs deeply, returning to work on the pasta. In the distance, the faint sound of Isabella playing in her bedroom can be heard, the adorable noise bringing a smile to Michael's face, and Calum thinks that maybe it's because he's remembering what he'd be doing it all for. What meeting Luke and Ashton and eventually Calum's family will mean for them all going forward.

"Okay, okay. Fine, I'll do it." Michael says, but he doesn't really seem all that put out by it.

Calum beams, springing towards the living room to grab his phone. He shoots off a text to Luke, inviting them over for dinner that night, and within the hour he's got a confirmation from the other boy saying they'll be at the apartment around six.

******

Michael keeps calm and collected pretty much the entire afternoon, but it's like as soon as the knock on the door sounds, every piece of his casual exterior crumbles. He starts breathing heavily, fiddling with his fringe excessively while Calum walks over to the door.

"Please, it's gonna be fine, okay?" Calum attempts to soothe, hand curling around the handle. Michael just nods nervously, standing awkwardly in the living room and looking like he wants to sit down but thinks it'd be inappropriate for him to do so in his own home.

Calum opens the door before Michael can psyche himself up more than he already has, smiling when he sees his closest friends standing on the porch.

Luke's holding what looks like a case of beer, something Calum has just now decided is an excellent thing because he thinks Michael could use one to take the edge off. That is, if he even still drinks.

It hits him like a brick wall that he doesn't actually know if Michael stopped having alcohol in addition to the drugs, and suddenly the knowledge that it may fuck everything up if there's beers in Michael's house makes Calum question this whole thing. What if it sets Michael off? What if this all _does_ go terribly and ends here tonight, before they even really got anywhere?

"Hey, Cal," Ashton is saying before Calum can let himself delve too deep into his thoughts, but not before a swirly feeling of bad vibes settles heavy in his stomach.

"Hi," he squeaks in return, forcing himself to step to the side so that his friends can enter the apartment.

The pair step in, eager to get out of the summer heat, but Ashton crashes into Luke's back when the boy stops dead in his tracks. When Calum looks to him, he follows his friend's gaze and finds it locked right on Michael, who looks just as fucked as he must feel.

"No way," Luke growls, dropping the six pack onto the end table near the door usually saved for Bella's backpack and Michael's keys. The blonde spins, glowering at Calum accusingly. "It's _not_ Michael Clifford. Tell me that is _not_ who I just fucking saw."

Michael's eyes widen, emerald orbs shooting over to Calum as well. "You didn't tell them it was me?!"

Ashton looks pretty much utterly lost, looking from Michael to Calum and then at his own fiancé. He keeps his mouth shut, but it's set into a frown, so Calum knows he's definitely still on Luke's side of the argument. And that settles what he'd been figuring out in the last few seconds—everyone in this room is against him right now.

"I just, I didn't want to turn them off to the idea." Calum tries, feeling nervous sweat prickling at the back of his neck.

Michael sighs. "They hated me so much you had to lie to get them here?"

"I didn't _lie_ —” Calum starts, but Luke snorts by means of cutting him off.

"Omission is still lying, Calum Hood." Luke huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He still won't look in Michael's direction. "I can't believe this. Cal, he fucked around with you for _months_. You were an absolute mess _all_ of year twelve because he left you, have you forgotten that?"

Calum frowns, shrinking in on himself. "Of course I haven't forgotten that." He chances a glance over at Michael, finding the boy staring at him intently with such hurt in his eyes it, like he never knew how bad he messed Calum up, and it almost makes Calum want to cry. But he holds the boy's gaze when he says, "He's changed, Luke."

Luke snorts, rolling his eyes. " _Seasons_ change, Calum. People don't." The blonde looks at Michael now, shooting him an icy glare that makes Calum want to tremble with the force of it. To Michael's credit, he stays looking as confident as one could under the weight of something so heavy.

"Careful," Ashton whispers to his fiancé, barely loud enough for Calum to make out. It's a bit comforting, in spite of all this, to know that Ashton's ready to reel Luke in if he swims too far out of line. It's one of the things Calum admires about him—his ability to keep Luke in check when the boy's too clearly guided by emotions instead of reasoning.

"You were _such_ a shithead, Michael, and I've got no idea how you lured my best friend back here. But now he's gone and gotten all lovesick over you again, and I can’t do it. I can't watch him fall victim to your fucking lifestyle anymore." Luke's voice keeps increasing in volume, and every time he goes to take a step forward, Ashton tugs back on his shirt and reminds the boy to keep his head. "You must have some fucking _nerve_ to seek him out after all this time and pull him back in just for the hell of it. Why can't you let him be? Doesn't he deserve to be happy for once?"

Michael's opening his mouth to respond, and Luke's gearing up to cut him off, but it's neither of them that end up speaking next.

Instead, it's a small, sheepish little voice coming from the hallway arch. A voice Calum completely forgot was still in the house.

"Don't swear," Isabella says softly, and Calum's heart almost bleeds with how bad he feels. He knows Michael must feel worse with the way he visibly sinks in on himself and directs his tear filled eyes on her.

Ashton takes a couple steps forward before kneeling down in front of her. Bella doesn't hide from him, never one to be shy, but she does lean a little closer to the wall.

"I'm sorry, little one. We didn't know you were here." The curly haired man smiles wide, a miracle given the tension in the room, all dimples and shiny teeth. It seems to comfort Bella, because she smiles gently back, closed lipped and hesitant. "You know, I tell him _all the time_ not to swear, but he just doesn't listen."

Bella nods, laughing quietly before looking over to her father. Michael mirrors the movement. "Everything's fine, Rockstar. Go on back to your room, okay? We'll keep it down." He blows her a soft kiss that she reaches over her head to grab and press against her lips before she scampers back down the hall.

As soon as she's gone, Ashton turns his head up to give Michael a quirked eyebrow. "She yours?"

The direction of this conversation seemingly teeters on Michael's response, and Calum chews the inside of his cheek because at this point, he has no idea where Luke might take it.

"Yeah," Michael ghosts, but Luke still hears it, and the boy groans out loud.

"Oh, I _know_ you're not bringing your damn drugs into a house with that little angel around. Do you really think she needs to grow up like that?" Luke's spitting out pure judgment here, and it seems like everyone knows it at this point. Ashton's giving his fiancé a warning stare, but Michael's apparently irked enough to finally defend himself.

"Jesus, Luke, would you _listen_?" He shouts, and the accused boy is stunned into silence. "I'm almost five years clean now. I've _changed_. I'm not that same guy anymore. Do you really think any of us," he pauses briefly to look at Calum, who gives him a soft upward curve of his lips, "would be here if I was? I never want to go back to how I was that summer. It was hell, living like that."

It stays silent for several beats, but it breaks when Ashton murmurs, "He has a point, Luke."

Luke rubs his temples, making an annoyed sound. "Damn it, I _know_ he does." He looks up, taking a couple steps forward until there's nothing but the coffee table between himself and Michael. "Alright, Clifford, I'll tell you what. We'll try. We'll work on this, but _only_ for Calum, because he seems to have put some sort of trust in you that I have to let him test. I have to respect that he's accepted you again. But it's going to take a _lot_ more than a few sobriety chips to prove yourself to me."

He sticks his hand out, and Michael shakes it firmly, a look in his eyes so fierce it seems like he's promising Luke something so real he can’t even vocalize it.

Calum wonders if he's promising to love him _right_ this time.

He's only visited with his parents once since he's been back, but they're more than thrilled when he informs them a few days before Sunday dinner that he'll be bringing someone along that he wants them to meet.

When he walks up the steps to his childhood home at five o'clock that Sunday, Michael seems hesitant and uncomfortable, but Calum doesn't blame him. The last time they were here together was when Michael was dropping him off. When they saw each other for the last time before that summer ended and so did everything they had together.

Calum reminds him for the fifth time since they got in Michael's car to drive over that the boy has nothing to worry about. That Calum's parents never knew about him all those years ago and will be none the wiser, so it doesn't matter. He doesn't mention Mali, though, because he knows her, and he knows she'll figure it out right away. Which is why he'd been so adamant about bringing Bella along for dinner as well.

The little girl had padded the blows Luke could've easily thrown at Michael, so it's his hope that she'll do the same when it comes to Mali. There's the tiniest silver lining that maybe Mali won't say anything, but if she does, then Calum knows the elementary school teacher in her will force her to roll it back significantly in the presence of a child.

Calum's mother answers the door, and she grins when she sees her son standing there. She pulls him in for a quick hug, before she peers over Calum's shoulder and notices Michael.

"Who might you be?" She says warmly, releasing Calum and extending her hand for the blonde boy.

Michael shakes it firmly, reaching back with his free hand to grab Bella. "Michael. This is my daughter, Isabella."

Calum's mum tosses an amused expression over her shoulder, and the brunette tries unsuccessfully to stifle his eye roll. Of _course_ his mother would tease him for getting together with the guy that has a child. Not that they're actually even together, but he doesn't really need to give his mother all the painful details of he and Michael's history.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you both. Come in, come in, the roast's almost on!" She enthuses, ushering Michael and Bella into the house before tugging approvingly on Calum's hair. He smiles softly at her before following them into the house as well, falling back in beside Michael in the foyer.

"Is Cal here?" He hears his sister call out, and his heart starts racing. "Did he bring that boy toy over or not?"

Mali comes around the corner then, all smiles and bright eyes. Her eyes fall on Bella first, and she gasps softly in surprise.

"Hello! What's your name, sweet pea?" She asks, and Bella curls sheepishly into Michael's leg.

"Isabella," she answers, causing Mali to beam before she allows her gaze to roam up to Michael's face.

"I'm Mali," his sister introduces, giving Michael a quick one armed squeeze before he's even told her his own name. "It's good to finally see you. Calum s _aid_ he wasn't seeing anyone, but I'm not so ignorant. I knew better." She winks, light hearted and teasing and Calum thinks for a second that this might actually all go smoothly.

"I'm Michael," the blonde replies, settling his hand over Bella's hair and stroking his fingers through it gently. Calum's heart warms at the sight. "And, uh, we're not actually, like, _seeing_ each other. We just reconnected recently."

It's the wrong choice of words. Calum knows it, Mali knows it, and Michael instantly knows it. He wouldn't be surprised if _Bella_ knew it, too, but the four year old is so blissfully oblivious that there's no way she would've put it together.

Mali sends her eyes boring into Calum's instantly, and he's pretty sure he sees fire behind them. Her face is visibly heating, jaw clenched with the words she's biting back.

"Living room. _Now_." She spits, throwing Michael a hostile gaze before storming off in the direction of the isolated room.

Calum looks over at Michael, an apologetic look in his eyes to say he's sorry he sort of set Michael up again. The blonde just sighs heavily, clutching Bella's hand in his own as he starts off towards the kitchen.

Mali's waiting for him in the middle of the living room when Calum finally gains the courage to walk in after her. She's already pacing, hands clenched into fists where they're crossed over her chest. Her eyebrows are furrowed, an angry scowl on her face, and Calum would give _anything_ to not be in this moment right now.

"Calum, babe, you're _kidding_ me, right? That's him, isn't it? Michael, he's the one that you were with that summer." She says the last part like it's a matter of fact, like nothing he could ever say would be right over her. And while she's correct, it still hurts to be talked down to. Nobody's done that to him in years.

He chews on his bottom lip, not giving her a straight answer, but his silence is enough. Mali groans, running her hand through her hair and puffing out an exasperated rush of air.

"You have to tell me you know what you're getting yourself into." She murmurs. "He has a _kid_ , Calum. There's a lot more at stake this time. More than just your heart."

Calum frowns. He almost wants to argue that he didn't sacrifice his heart last time around, but he knows that at the end of the day, Michael took everything from him when he left Sydney that summer. He took Calum's spark, his virginity, and his first real feelings of love. He sacrificed a lot more than his heart, and he's sure Mali knows that.

"I wouldn't have brought him here if I didn't believe in him, Mali," Calum says quietly.

Mali's face softens, and she reaches up to cup his jaw. "That's what I'm afraid of. I don't want you to put so much faith in him, not if he's going to rip it all out from under you again. I want you to be guarded." She draws their matching chocolate eyes to each other, the fire gone from them and replaced with melancholy. "I don't think I'd survive watching you sink back to that place he dragged you down to."

Calum shivers. It's the first _real_ time since he's been back that she's made any mention of the nature of that summer everything changed. Of the way Calum came home smelling like sex and booze and weed, and other days with ecstasy still fogging his brain and Ritalin still itching his nostrils. It was a dark time—a time Calum never wants to revisit, not even if Michael's with him again through it all.

"I promise." Calum says, and he does. He promises himself more than her, and he knows she's satisfied with that fact because she hugs him fiercely and doesn't let him go for almost a minute.

 

Three days later, Calum is sitting on the couch with Mali, channel surfing while she draws up some lesson plan she says she's going to use for the new school year. He's hardly watching what's on, just sort of staring at the screen mindlessly as he listens to Mali reading through curriculum out loud since apparently it 'helps her assess it better'.

What it is is annoying, and so Calum's actually somewhat glad when the ringing of his cell phone interrupts their relatively boring afternoon.

He's thrown off at first when he sees it's Michael's caller ID, since they hadn't made any plans for today and it's unlikely that the older boy would spring something on him so late in the day. The sun will be going down within the next few hours, so he can't imagine what Michael will want, but he still answers because he's too weak not to.

"Yeah?" Calum greets, flicking the channel when the game show that had been on ends and a rerun he watched a few hours ago starts again. The next channel up is the Shopping Network, and he leaves it because Mali perks up at the handbags they're displaying.

"Cal?" A youthful voice asks, and Calum smiles immediately, shifting so he's sitting up a little straighter.

"Well, hello, Princess. I didn't know you had a phone." He's teasing, of course. He _knows_ she's using Michael's cell, but her resulting giggle is worth the feigned obliviousness.

Mali looks over at him with furrowed eyebrows, closing her binder and mouthing 'who's that?'. He rolls his eyes fondly before covering the mouthpiece and whispering back, "Isabella." Mali chuckles, refocusing on the television while Calum uncovers the receiver and tunes back in. "What's up, Bella?" He asks her.

"Daddy's letting me help make dinner. Will you come?" Bella pleads, sounding absolutely adorable, and Calum doesn't think he has it in him to say no.

He's about to open his mouth to reply, but he pauses when he hears the shout of 'Izzy!' followed by loud scuffling—likely Michael stealing his phone back. "Hello? I'm sorry, my daughter must've gotten a hold of—"

"Mike," Calum interrupts, eyes crinkling when he inevitably smiles widely. He purposely ignores his sister's suggestive glance at the use of Michael's nickname, instead turning his torso away like that'll give him more privacy. "It's just me, no worries."

Michael emits a relieved sigh, and Calum can almost s _ee_ his shoulders relaxing at the realization it's nobody crucial that Isabella dialed.

"Oh, hey, Cal. Sorry about that, I don't know how she even learned to _use_ a fucking phone." He sounds exasperated, tired. Calum breathes out a ghost of a laugh through his nose before Michael continues. "What did she say?"

Mali reaches over to grab the remote from Calum, but he can tell by the way she's positioning herself that she's trying to overhear Michael's words. He rolls his eyes, shoving her off and tossing the remote across the room so that she has to walk away to retrieve it.

"She wanted me to come over for dinner. Apparently she's cooking?"

Michael laughs, one that sounds a bit more real and a lot less tired. "She's _helping_. And by helping, I mean I'll _maybe_ let her stir the sauce or dump in some of the spices."

"You haven't started yet?" Calum asks, checking the time on his watch. It's past five already, and from what he knows, the Clifford’s' usually have dinner on the table by then.

"Nah," Michael says before stalling. He sounds slightly more sheepish when he says, "We could always use an extra hand, though."

Calum beams. "Yeah, okay. I'll be there in a bit."

Michael shoots him a quick goodbye before hanging up. Calum fluffs his unruly hair into something halfway presentable as soon as the line goes dead and he's pocketed the phone.

Mali raises an eyebrow, pulling her own hair back into a ponytail as she resettles in to continue with her lesson plan. "You'll be where in a bit?" She asks him.

"Michael's place. Bella's helping with dinner," he explains as he stands up and stretches, joints popping after a day spent glued to the couch.

He's just reaching for her car keys and sliding into his flip flops when she calls out, "Bring me back some of the chef's special."

Calum rolls his eyes. "It's a five star joint, Mali, please. They don't offer take out."

He shuts the door behind him just as she starts howling with laughter, but he waits long enough to fire back the finger as soon as she flips him off.

******

The "chef's special" turns out to be spaghetti, the kind with rotini and homemade sauce. Calum's been over for an hour or so now, and has taken it upon himself to play cheesy Italian tunes on Michael's cable music channel. 'That's Amore' has come up possibly four times, but he and Michael serenade Bella just as vivaciously every single round, and she continues to love it.

Calum's in the middle of a sweet air accordion solo when the sauce starts really rolling, the sweet smell of it wafting through the kitchen and filling the entirety of the house.

"Iz, it's ready to stir!" Michael calls to her, and his small lookalike comes scampering in from where she'd been setting the table seconds later. The blonde laughs, handing her a wooden spoon before scooping her up in his arms and spinning so that she's facing the pot. "Slowly now, if you stir too fast it'll go everywhere, okay Rockstar?"

Bella nods, eyes wide and full of admiration as she sets to her task seriously. Calum can't help but notice the way Michael gets lost in watching her, eyes flicking between how close she is to the heat of the stove and back to her amazed face. He gives her a sweet kiss on the cheek when she's done stirring, setting her back on her feet and taking the spoon back.

It isn't until Michael's called his name four times that Calum realizes he'd zoned out while watching them together, transfixed by their easy father-daughter dynamics. It's so weird for him, still, to see Michael in such a new light, but he can't really help loving it. Can't help loving the way Michael treats his little girl and the way he treats _himself_ so much better than he ever used to treat anyone.

Michael's eyebrows are furrowed in worry as he looks back at Calum, like he can't tell if he did something wrong. He's got the loaf of bread in his hand that Calum told him he could turn into the best garlic toast in town using his mother's recipe, but he's looking cautious and guarded.

"You good, Calum?" Michael asks, and Calum's nodding before the question is even finished. He reaches for the bread and begins the lesson, and just like that everything's back to normal, like the overwhelming feelings of pure love _hadn’t_ just washed over him in painful waves.

******

It's later, after Bella's run down the hall to get washed up for bed as per Michael's instruction, that they're alone again. Calum's collecting silverware and plates from the table while Michael runs the water and adds some dish soap, creating some space on the counter for them to put the dishes so they can dry.

"Sorry she called you," Michael murmurs in the relative silence of the kitchen, aside from the light trickling of water into the sink and light scrape of a fork on plates as Calum scrapes uneaten food into the trash can.

Calum looks up from his work, only to find Michael staring intently at his hands, which are covered in bubbles and rinsing out a glass. He frowns at the tense expression on Michael's face, at the rigidness of his shoulders as he hunches over the sink.

"It's okay. I know you were just using your adorable kid to pick me up." He's joking (mostly), and it makes his chest feel significantly lighter when Michael laughs and looks over at him.

Calum feels like he can't breathe for a moment, what with the way Michael's green eyes are trained on him so adoringly. They're sparkling and alive and full of emotion that he supposes has _always_ been there, even back in high school, although back then it'd been clouded with drugs and darkness.

But now, Michael looks at him like Calum holds the secrets to the universe. Hell, like Calum _is_ the universe, and it makes his chest want to cave in on itself under the weight of that. It makes him realize that this is quite possibly everything that they could've had if Michael had never left.

"Did it change your mind about hanging out with me?" Calum asks. "Meeting everyone, I mean? I know they weren't as welcoming as you might've hoped."

Michael clears his throat, shrugging, but it's not dismissive. He doesn't seem to dismiss anything Calum says these days, and that's another nice change. "I deserved it. But it couldn't ever change my mind. They care about you, Cal, and so do I. If being hated for awhile is what I have to go through to be your friend again, then I'll do it. You know that, right? That I'd do anything to have you again?"

Calum's heart flutters at those words, because he knows what they mean. He knows it's not about being just friends or reconnecting. He's saying he'd do anything to have another chance to _love_ Calum, and _god_ , does Calum want to give him that chance. He'd do anything to have Michael again, too.

He's not thinking clearly when he closes the two feet of space between them, and he's most _definitely_ not thinking when he reaches up and cups Michael's jaw tenderly. He hasn't touched Michael like this in _years_ , but it still feels easy and natural, like he never once stopped doing it.

He's still not thinking when he leans forward and presses his lips to Michael's, gentle but sure in the way he slides his eyes shut and tilts his head to get a better handle on it. Michael doesn't even pause, just slides his hands onto Calum's waist, and Calum can feel the soap and water dampening his shirt but he just doesn't _care_ , not when he's breathing Michael in again. Not when he's finally kissing his boy the right way for the very first time, not when Michael is kissing him back and for once he knows he _means_ it.

But he cares about the fact that it wasn't supposed to happen yet. About the fact that he's letting past feelings cloud over everything still hanging in the air. About the fact that they haven't even _attempted_ to talk out everything they went through six years ago. And Calum wants to just forget about that and keep kissing Michael like this, but he knows it's not right yet, and he can't risk getting hurt again like he will if he acts so carelessly.

So he pulls back, eyes wide and breaths coming in gasps. Michael seems to be suffering similarly, his fingers flying up to dance over his lips like he can't believe he's just felt Calum's against them again.

"Calum—" Michael tries, but the brunette is already backing away from him.

"I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow." Calum stutters, dazed, as he grabs for his car keys and exits the apartment, leaving Michael glued to his spot in the kitchen.

Calum doesn't call.

Not the next day like he promised, not even a couple of days later. Michael doesn't reach out to him, either, but it's still pretty much one hundred percent Calum's fault that he doesn't call Michael for an entire week following the kiss.

He doesn't really have it in him to blame himself, though. He's scared—terrified, even, that they've fucked away whatever friendship had been building the very second Calum kissed Michael. And it's so unfair, Calum knows, because he forced himself on Michael and even though the boy didn't resist, it was still totally out of line to just up and _kiss him_ and he feels like shit about it.

In the end, it's actually Mali that forces him to build up the courage to just send Michael a text. She passes by his bedroom on the fifth day, flinging the door open and telling him to get off his ass because she's not sure what crawled up it and died but she doesn't want it in her house anymore.

(He knows deep down she's concerned that Michael's hurt him again, but he doesn't have the energy to explain that this time it's entirely his own fault. She probably wouldn't believe him anyway, instead opting for blaming the blonde for anything and everything just because she needs a reason to keep disliking him.)

But he promises to deal with it if she just gets 'the hell out, Mali, _fine_ '. So she leaves, triumphant, and Calum fishes about for his phone that's plugged in on the nightstand. There's no new messages, not even from Mali or Luke or his parents, so he briefly wonders what would ever happen if he just disappeared one day. Probably they wouldn't even think he was gone since they never seem to check in on his well being.

He's still chuckling about the absurdity of that thought as he types out a brief message to Michael, because he's not sure he has the voice or willpower to actually SPEAK to Michael right now.

> **To: Michael (3:17 PM)  
>  What are you doing for dinner? Thought maybe we should talk about what happened x**

The x is maybe a bit much, but he's sent the message before he can second guess himself. He feels drained as soon as the iPhone tells him it's been delivered, and he collapses into his pillows in near agony when the 'delivered' changes to 'read'. The three dots pop up to tell him Michael's typing back, and he holds his breath the entire time.

> **From: Michael (3:20)  
>  I agree. Meet me at the old pizza place around 5? Also, do u think your sister could take Isabella tonight? I don't think she needs to be there.**

The comment about Bella makes it a little more real, Calum thinks, because it hints that the conversation isn't going to be as friendly as usual. It solidifies the fact that it's going to be _real_ and hard to deal with, and Calum steels himself before calling out down the hall to see if Mali's open to the idea of babysitting.

******

The pizzeria near their old high school has been open since before either of them were even _in_ high school, and it's still owned by the same old man and his little old wife. The pizza's to die for and the beer is cold, so Calum counts it as a win that Michael chose this place to have their talk.

When Calum walks in, he spots the boy's bleached blonde hair immediately, sort of like he expected to. It seems as though his eyes are always drawn to Michael, like he could find him in a crowd of millions just because their hearts seemed to beat eerily in time.

He slides into the booth across from Michael, taking in his ripped tank top and leather jacket and built up stubble that's the color of his natural hair. He looks just like he did in high school, only a bit more aged, and Calum thinks that's a bit fitting yet ironic given their inevitable conversation.

"You look good," Calum starts, as if he hasn't seen Michael nearly every other day since they found each other again.

Michael snorts, but it airs on the side of a laugh, so Calum lets it slide. "You, too. But that's nothing new." He smirks slightly, and Calum can't help but blush. "I ordered you a beer."

Calum nods, noting the cold bottle placed on a napkin on his side of the table. "Thanks. Should we order a pizza, or?"

The older boy shrugs. "Are we really here to eat?"

He has a point, Calum knows that. It still seems a bit hostile, but Calum also knows he probably deserves that somewhat. It was uncool to cut him off for five days, especially after all the progress they'd been making.

"I guess I'll start by saying I'm sorry that I kissed you the other night." Calum says weakly.

Michael takes a small sip of his water, watching Calum the entire time. "Don't be sorry for that. You _know_ I'm not sorry you did it." It doesn't sound flirtatious, just honest, and Calum finds his stomach fluttering about with the way Michael says it so matter-of-factly.

"Mike, listen. I wanted to kiss you, I know you know that. I never wanted to _stop_ kissing you, and I hope you know that, too." Calum tells him slowly. "But we've been rushing, I think. We need to start from the beginning. Say all the things that we never said but needed to. The hard stuff, Mike. The _ugly_ stuff."

The blonde nods carefully, looking down at his hands for only a second before he's turning his head up to hold Calum's gaze.

"I'm sorry about high school. I don't think I ever formally said that, but I am. I was in such a bad place and all I did was drag you down with me." Michael says.

Calum nods. He almost wants to use an immediate "it's okay" but it's _not_ okay, nothing about what they put each other through six years ago is okay. "Why did you leave?" He asks instead.

Michael sighs, picking at a chip in the table. "I know I told you it was my parents, but it wasn't." He flicks his eyes upwards, assessing Calum's reaction before turning back to the chip. "I had real feelings for you. Ones I'd never had about _anyone_ before, and that was _so_ fucking scary, Cal. I didn't know _how_ to feel that way about someone. And we'd been how we were for so long by that point that I just avoided it."

"I knew." Calum says directly, watching as Michael's eyes widen. "After that night in the car, that afternoon under the tree?" He leans closer, voice more of a phantom when he whispers, "Those nights we _weren't_ high? How could I _not_ know? I felt the same way."

Michael sighs shakily. "I'm sorry I left you." He tells him, and it sounds like he means it.

"So am I." Calum admits, wrapping his hands around the beer bottle just for something to hold onto. "Where did you even go?" He asks, because he can't not know anymore.

The blonde huffs out a laugh, but it seems sad, much heavier and void of any humor. "Adelaide. I met up with some buddies from school and we rented an apartment. It got bad for awhile." He rubs at his arm distantly, the one that's marked with old injection scars and scratch marks and it breaks Calum's heart, so he reaches over and places his steady hand over Michael's to stop his movement.

"How bad?"

"I don't think I left my bed for a week, Cal. I was so fucked up, high on anything and everything, but still I couldn't fucking stop _thinking_ about you. And I knew you were doing so good, and I knew you were better off without me but I still _couldn’t stop_." Michael's voice cracks, and he sucks in a rush of air like people do before they cry, so Calum tightens his grip to reassure the older boy. "I never wanted to let you go even though I treated you like shit. How selfish is that?"

"It's not." Calum assures him, shaking his head to get the upsetting idea that Michael always wanted him but never chased after him out of his mind. "It's not selfish, Mikey. I may have been better off without you _then_ , when it was bad, but I'd be better off _with_ you _now_."

"Calum," Michael says, but he doesn't elaborate.

"I never got over you. I tried to, fuck, I tried to. But I thought about you every day for a year after you drove away that night. Less so in college, but some days you hit me so hard it was like I couldn't even _see_ straight." Calum pushes his beer out of the way, disinterested, as he clutches both of Michael's hands in his own. "And I _never_ forgot what it was like to love you. Not even for a second."

Michael sucks in a rush of air, looking down, and Calum sees dampness on his lower lashes. He's been fighting tears this whole time. "You loved me?"

"Of _course_ I did." Calum emphasizes, squeezing Michael's hands more tightly. It feels right, getting to hold them again. It's like his skin always remembered the touch, the feel of Michael's palms on him. He can almost feel them on his hips, pressing in and bruising like they used to.

Michael frowns apologetically. "I didn't know."

Calum shrugs, smiling halfheartedly. "You wouldn't have stayed anyway."

The older boy shakes his head, eyes wide and pleading, like he's desperate to prove his point. "But maybe. If you'd told me, maybe I could've worked on it—"

"No, babe." Calum interrupts, the pet name sliding out alarmingly naturally. "You wouldn't have wanted to hear it from me back then. It was gonna take something _much_ stronger than me to help you. Something like Isabella."

At the mention of his daughter, Michael visibly relaxes, and he nods softly. "I love her so much, Cal. I tried so hard for her."

Calum smiles, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb into the back of Michael's hand. "I know you did. You _do_. I see the way you act with her and it makes me so proud, Mike. You're an amazing man; don't let yourself ever think you're not good enough for her. She loves you right back, Mikey, you know that."

The older boy looks down solemnly. "Yeah. Yeah, I know that." He says, but he doesn't sound like he really believes it. Like he still thinks he's not qualified enough to raise his daughter well.

"She'll turn out great, Michael." Calum tries, reaching out to grab Michael's chin and tilt it up so that they're looking at each other again. "Bella's a good kid. You don't have anything to worry about."

Michael rolls his head back out of Calum's grasp, shaking it again. "She needs more than just _me_ , Cal. Her mother didn't want anything to do with her, and the only other people she has besides me are _my_ parents."

It breaks Calum's heart, seeing how hard raising Isabella has been on Michael. It's obvious the girl is his entire world, but he knows it's hard to do by oneself, and Michael tackled that head on at just twenty years old. He never got to be coddled and comforted through his recovery, and Calum never even thought to imagine what kind of toll that would take on him.

"She has me." Calum tells him. "If you'll let me, she has me, too."

It's thin ice, his words, but he thinks they're what Michael needs to hear. His suspicion is confirmed when Michael lets a tear fall in the midst of nodding enthusiastically, gripping Calum's hands so hard his knuckles go white. "I want that. I _do_ , so fucking much, Cal. I _need_ you."

The world around them seems to fall into slow motion, the bustle of the games on the televisions muting to static noise in his head. Michael seems momentarily confused by Calum's reaction, at the way he recoils his hands just slightly and tenses up. But just seconds later, Michael's face molds into one of realization, and he reaches out to draw Calum's hands back in.

They were the last words Michael ever _actually_ said to him before he left Sydney, the ones he whispered into his ear that night in the car in lieu of an I Love You. It'd felt like the heaviest thing anyone had ever thrown on him in the moment it happened, and Michael says it with the same weight now.

Which tells Calum Michael's still using it as a replacement for the other three little words, because they both know it's not the right time to say them.

Which tells Calum Michael still loves him back after all this time.

So Calum bends over the table, almost in half so he can get as close as possible, and he cups Michael's cheek before whispering, "You _have_ me," and kissing his lips hard.

He doesn't know what it means for them when Michael whimpers and lets go of his hands in favor of gripping Calum's hair to kiss back harder, but he knows that he's finally found his place that feels like home.

Home has always been Michael. And he's finally found his way back to it.

"Isn't this something you're supposed to do with your _fiancé_?" Calum whines for the hundredth time, adjusting the price scanner in his hands as he lifts it to read the barcode on a dinner plate set.

Luke skips past him joyfully, running the red light of his scanner over seemingly random items. It's likely that his wedding registry will be ridiculously long and a bit irrational, but Calum continues on letting his best friend rack up items for his and Ashton's wish list.

"Ash was busy. Besides, you're my best man. You _have_ to help me with whatever I need. It's like, law." Luke rambles, bubbly and excitable. He makes a face akin to 'oh my _god_ , Cal, _look_ at this thing!' before he makes a show of scanning the barcode on some linens.

"You guys have been living together for five years now. What household items could you possibly need that you haven't already collected?" Calum asks, reluctantly scanning over a colander Luke had been raving about on the way to the store.

His best friend dramatizes rolling his eyes and flipping Calum off. "I don't know. A crock pot, maybe? Don't complain, just scan."

Calum laughs, shaking his head and continuing to run the scanner over items on Luke's general list he'd _supposedly_ compiled with his fiancé last week.

They don't talk for a few minutes, aside from the occasional "How about this, Luke?" and "Do you think Ash would like this, C?" So when Luke breaks the silence with a question Calum's definitely not expecting, it seems twice as shocking as it would've ordinarily been.

"Would you and Michael like to come over for dinner tonight?" Luke inquires casually, not even removing his eyes from the two placemat sets in front of him.

Calum chokes on air, coughing a bit before he quirks an eyebrow. "Tonight? Me and Mike?"

Luke rolls his baby blues again, this time directing them over to Calum. "Yes, tonight, you dork. Ashton said it'd probably be good for all of us to get together sometime soon. If he's gonna be your plus one at the wedding, and whatnot."

The brunette chuckles. "He's not my plus one."

Luke shrugs dismissively, looking back at the placemats before just sighing and scanning them both. "Maybe not _yet_ , but he will be. So just come over before I change my mind about letting him in my house."

And while it's a rough start, it's a _start_ , and Calum will take it.

******

Ashton's already placed the chicken and salad on the table by the time Calum and Michael arrive a few minutes late. They'd had to drop Isabella off at Mali's, since Ed was unavailable and Mali had insisted her 'little angel' come over for hair and nails.

There's four empty wine glasses on the table, with four chairs facing each other in sets of two. It almost feels like an interrogation when they sit down across from Luke and Ashton, but it's anything but intimidating when Ashton holds up a bottle of Merlot and asks, "Wine?"

Michael nods once, lifting up his glass and meeting Ashton halfway so the curly haired boy can fill it up. Luke watches carefully, a hardness in his eyes that shows he's not completely trusting yet. And maybe he never will be, but it doesn't matter because Calum knows Michael better than Luke ever will, so Luke's room to judge is getting increasingly smaller.

"So," Ashton clears his throat, breaking the ice. "I don't think I ever caught your daughter's name when we were over?"

Michael relaxes into his chair, settling back with his glass of wine in his hand as Calum fills his own glass up with the same bottle. "Her name's Isabella. We call her Izzy."

Calum snorts. " _Y_ ou call her Izzy." He takes a pointed sip of his wine, directing his next statement towards his friends across the table. "I prefer to call her Bella. It sounds more elegant."

Michael throws his head back and laughs, crinkling his eyes and shaking his head. "She's almost five years old, elegant isn't something that applies to her."

It's Luke that laughs next, much to everyone's surprise. But it doesn't go further than that one joyful sound, as Luke keeps silent while he uses the tongs to pile some salad on his plate.

"Anyway," Michael says slowly, watching Luke carefully out of the corner of his eye. "Calum told me about the wedding. Congratulations, you two. Always knew it'd end up being you that got hitched."

And really, it'd be an act of God or some other miracle if Luke didn't perk up at the mention of his upcoming wedding, so it's no surprise that the boy sits up a little straighter and smiles so big it looks almost painful. He reaches out for Ashton's hand, and the other boy entwines their fingers eagerly.

"Thanks, man. We just...it's so _right_. It's like I can't imagine ever ending up with someone else when I'm next to him, you know?" Ashton gushes, looking into his fiancé's eyes as he kisses their clasped hands. Luke looks like he about melts, and Calum resists the urge to gag.

He's more than surprised when Michael quietly replies, "Yeah, I do," and shoots a glance towards Calum. He almost blurts out that he's stupidly in love with Michael due to the sheer honesty of that moment, but he refrains because he knows it's not the right time, yet. Michael knows that Calum adores him, and Calum knows Michael adores him right back, and it's enough.

"Any plans for a honeymoon?" Calum asks suddenly, gulping down a large swig of wine immediately afterwards. He's not sure why he's so uneasy all of the sudden, but he's mostly positive it's got a lot to do with Michael's dangerous openness about the new developments in their own relationship since they last saw Luke and Ashton. They're not dating by any means, and he thinks it'll take a bit more before they ever reach that stage, but they're kissing again and that's a pretty fast track towards boyfriends. And he's not sure if he's ready for his already-annoyed best friend to find out he's been kissing on the boy that broke his heart just yet.

Ashton sighs, rolling his shoulders back before slumping down. "Y'know, we haven't decided on anything? Like, we're not big vacationers, really. We like being with people we know."

Luke nods in agreement. "We're social people. The thought of being stuck on some island together is appealing, but, like, _lonely_."

Michael chews on his lip in thought for a few seconds before he lights up, snapping his fingers. "This might sound weird, but I heard that couple's retreats are perfect for newlyweds. It's romantic and you get to see what the couples that've been together for decades are like. It's an optimistic sort of thing, and you seem like optimistic sorts of people."

He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but Calum finds himself sliding his hand into Michael's under the table at his mention of a _couple’s_ retreat, a loose and subtle hold but one that's still _there_. And he knows Michael notices when he stutters over his words for a split second, then recovers to finish his statement.

Neither of them listens to Ashton and Luke's response. Instead, Calum's watching Michael as the boy stares down at their joined hands, like he can't believe it's happening. Like he can't believe they're touching in front of actual people, which makes the sincerity of what it means all the more apparent.

Calum's offering him a second chance, _formally_ this time, and he knows Michael's taking it when he turns his hand over and squeezes more surely.

He tunes back into his friends' conversation just as Luke's making a sarcastic remark about how Ashton would _never_ be allowed to bring their future kid on vacation with them, because he's too overbearing and wouldn't even enjoy himself. Ashton's in the middle of defending himself, and Calum wonders what the hell he missed in the few seconds he and Michael had fallen into their own little world.

"What now?" Calum laughs, only laughing harder when Luke turns away from Ashton and faces Calum with an exhausted expression.

"Children. Ash should never have them." Luke's joking, Calum's ninety percent sure, because he _knows_ his best friend and he knows Luke would have eighty kids with Ashton if that was feasible.

"Why's that?" Michael asks, setting down his fork and reaching for his glass all with the same hand so that he doesn't have to let go of Calum's.

Ashton rolls his eyes before Luke even starts slamming him, but it's fond and full of love and makes Calum's hand that's joined with Michael's heat up, because he knows for once that it's a very real possibility he can have that with his first love. The love of his life, really, while he's bullshitting.

" _Because_. He's super over protective. He'd probably wrap the kid in bubble wrap if he could." Luke's giggling as he speaks, so Calum knows there's no real heat behind it.

" _Hey_." Ashton defends, putting his palms up. "All I'm saying is that they don't come with instruction manuals, and I'm not trying to pay for massive repairs if it keeps breaking."

Michael laughs this time, loud and genuine and _comfortable_ , and it's heartwarming when Luke winks at him, his hard exterior worn down significantly.

"It's not that scary, you guys. I mean, hell, I was the least qualified guy on this planet to be a parent." Michael's tone fades from jovial to a bit more reflective as he continues. "It's just about practice. Izzy does pretty good. She's happy, y'know? That's all I can really ask for."

Calum smiles, twisting his wrist so that Michael loosens his grip. The brunette takes his opportunity to slot their fingers together, the new hold a lot more intimate than before.

"Michael," Ashton says solemnly. "Don't beat yourself up. Everything you were is in the past now, and from what I've seen, that little girl is as happy as she could ever be. And that's all that matters."

Calum could kiss Ashton in that moment, probably. He doesn't, for obvious reasons, but the point is he _could_ because it means the world to know he's not the only one that thinks Michael's doing a wonderful job raising his daughter. Because he knows Michael needed to hear it from someone besides _just_ Calum.

He can tell just how much it means to Michael by the way he blushes and smiles shyly. "Thank you," he whispers, and Ashton gives him an affirmative nod to show he means what he's said.

"You know," Calum pipes up, "I'm sure Bella would love hanging out with you guys?" He poses it as a question directed more towards Michael, since it's the blonde's decision, but he knows Michael will love the idea so he doesn't feel any hesitation when he suggests it.

Michael nods enthusiastically, perking up in his chair. "That's brilliant! You guys could get some practice with kids and she could spend a day without me! God knows she's bound to get sick of me at some point."

Luke's jaw drops and he claps furiously, looking over to Ashton who's already grinning.

"That would be so _fun_ , are you sure?" Luke asks, leaning forward on his elbows and practically vibrating with excitement.

"I mean, yeah, I'm sure. I trust you guys to take care of her." Michael tells them, smiling. "If you trust me, that is," he adds more quietly, a few seconds later.

Calum holds his breath when he looks over at his best friend, but Luke looks anything but hostile. He's giving Michael a heartfelt expression, one that's serious and honest. And it makes Calum's heart fucking _soar_ when Luke says, "I trust you, Michael."

He could cry, knowing that his best friend has accepted his boy. Knowing that he doesn't have to hide it anymore because Luke can handle the fact Calum's not letting Michael get away again. Knowing that he could kiss Michael right now because it doesn't matter who sees him do it.

So he does. He leans over, pressing his lips to Michael's cheek, almost the corner of his mouth, and he feels Michael beam underneath it.

And he thinks that this is the moment they _really_ start over.

******

On the way back to Mali's apartment, Michael's got one hand on the steering wheel of his car and the other clasped with Calum's over the console when he asks, "Are we a couple, then?"

It takes Calum by surprise. Not in a bad way, necessarily, and really, he should've been expecting it. But he wasn't, so he doesn't say anything right away.

"I just. Is that what you meant when you held my hand in there? When you kissed me? Because it seemed like it." Michael's whispering, but it doesn't matter because the stereo is off and the streets aren't very busy so the road is quiet. Calum can hear him perfectly.

"I don't know," he replies honestly. He senses Michael tensing up, so he grips his hand more surely and quickly adds, "We could be. I want us to try to be. I think we could do it right this time."

Michael nods, pulling up to a red light and stopping the car. He looks over at Calum then, and the brunette takes in the way the city lights look flickering against his porcelain skin. At some point, the light turns green, but there's nobody behind them due to the lateness of the hour, so Michael goes nowhere.

He's still staring into Calum's eyes when he murmurs, "You're my whole world, Calum Hood."

Calum's never meant anything more vehemently in his life than when he breathes out, "And you're mine."

Luke and Ashton cash in their opportunity to spend a day with Isabella just a week later, and on one of Michael's only days off from the café. Mali's at a conference a few hours north all weekend, so she'd left Calum the apartment along with permission to do whatever he pleased so long as he cleaned up after himself (he'd promptly flipped her off, of course).

So when Luke and Ashton leave the apartment with Bella after informing Michael they'd be taking her to Luna Park for the day, it's just the two of them remaining in the apartment.

It _should_ feel awkward, in theory, but it doesn't. They haven't been alone like this since high school, not without strangers in the room or the knowledge that Bella's asleep down the hall. But still, it's natural and easy and not at all uncomfortable.

"Wanna put something on while I heat up some leftovers?" Calum offers, already walking towards the kitchenette. Michael nods, flopping down on the couch and searching through the pay per view movies. He decides on some mindless action film and lets the opening credits play while Calum warms up some of Mali's homemade enchiladas.

They eat in relative silence, aside from laughs or commentary on the movie every now and then. They get a couple of periodical texts from Luke assuring them that they're all having a great time at the theme park, along with a selfie or two from Ashton featuring Bella, because the guy's a selfie addict and just can't _help_ himself.

It's when the movie ends that they finally really _look_ at each other, unspoken words and weeks of tension suddenly caving in when Michael leans forward, testing the waters.

Calum eagerly gives it to him, meeting Michael halfway and smashing their lips together. It's desperate and messy, like they can't be bothered to do it right, but it doesn't matter because Calum's so in love with Michael that his chest aches and it means everything that he can finally just _kiss_ him again.

Michael seems to be thinking the same thing, because he tangles his fingers through Calum's fluffy hair and pulls him closer yet. "I missed this," he whispers against his lips.

Calum whimpers, pulling his head back to breathe and relishing in the way Michael immediately starts planting kisses down his cheek and jaw and neck, like he can't even _dream_ of stopping anytime soon. It's comforting to know that Michael hasn't lost his knack for sucking marks onto Calum's skin, which he sets to doing almost immediately.

"Is this okay?" Michael asks, pulling back like he just suddenly realized he might not have the right to do it anymore. They have to relearn each other's bodies at some point, though (not that Calum's _really_ forgotten what makes Michael tick), so Calum just nods encouragingly as his eyes slip closed.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's good." Calum mumbles back, trailing his fingers up Michael's back and settling on the boy's shoulders to ground himself. He can practically _feel_ the blood vessels bursting underneath his skin, and he might have to steal some of Mali's concealer to cover the inevitable bruises up, but he just genuinely doesn't give a shit. He hasn't had Michael's marks adorning his skin for _years_ now, he'd take a million of them if Michael would make the time to put them on his body. Maybe one day they _can_ take the time to do that.

God, it's even more overwhelming to know that this time, it's not a finite thing. There's no inevitable downfall, no set-in-stone departure looming above their heads. No, this time, they've got forever. And this time, forever really _is_ fine.

"Do you want to go further?" Michael asks, and it sounds so elementary, like they're playing seven minutes in heaven and they've only got five left. But he knows Michael's only checking because moving too fast is where they went wrong six years ago, and he loves him for it. Hell, he just loves Michael in _general_.

"No, not tonight." Calum answers, petting the small tendrils of hair at the nape of Michael's neck. "This is something we can't mess up."

Michael nods into Calum's throat, inhaling deep before pressing a gentle kiss to the abused skin. "Don't need to explain yourself. You know I'm content to take you any way I can have you. I could do just this all night."

Calum smiles even though Michael's not looking at him, and he stills his hand. "Well, then give me a few more marks, yeah? I missed them."

"I missed _giving_ them," the blonde boy groans, trailing his tongue to a new section of tanned, taut skin. Calum sighs softly into the air, laying back and letting Michael settle above him. "Just missed _you_ ," he reiterates.

Calum doesn't say anything, just lies below his boy and takes all the marks he gives, truly at peace for the first time in years.

******

Calum wakes up to the jingling of keys, and it takes him several seconds before he realizes it's probably Luke and Ashton trying to get back into the apartment using the door key Calum loaned them. He sits up, groggy from his afternoon nap, smiling gently when he feels Michael's arm fall from where it'd been wrapped around his waist.

He gets off of the couch, running his fingers through Michael's sleep-mussed hair to rouse him gently. The boy snuffles, but wakes up, so Calum counts it as a win.

"They're back," Calum whispers to him, voice gravelly with sleep. It's still light outside, golden and heinous with the angle the sun's setting at, and the glow in the room reflects off Michael's hair and makes it blinding to look at.

"Mmm, I'm up," Michael murmurs back, puckering his lips subtly for a kiss Calum eagerly gives him before he stands and goes to open the door his friends are clearly having significant trouble with.

He swings the front door open, smiling widely when Bella comes bounding into the room, a bag of half eaten cotton candy in her little fist. She goes straight for Michael, pouncing on him and giggling as he attacks her face with kisses.

Luke and Ashton walk in afterwards, looking like they're ready to bicker but holding it back for the sake of the youngster in the room.

"So," Calum starts, quirking an eyebrow. "How'd it go?"

Luke smirks, reaching out and poking at several spots on Calum's neck. It feels annoyingly like when he'd done the same thing back in high school, when he'd first discovered Calum was hooking up with Michael and he didn't know who it was quite yet, so he shoves his friend away playfully.

"I could ask you the same thing, you sex crazed—"

" _Okay_ ," Michael announces, shooting Luke an irritated glance before scooping Bella into his arms and carrying her down the hall.

Ashton swats Luke's shoulder with the back of his hand, giving his fiancé a look that all too clearly says, 'are you fucking kidding me?'

"You know, maybe if Lucas hadn't been having an _actual_ debate with her on the obvious appeal of penguins the whole time we were in the Ferris Wheel, I would've enjoyed myself a little more." Ashton snaps, crossing his arms and staring Luke down.

Luke scoffs and rolls his eyes, putting his hand up like he can't be bothered with that statement. "Well, _excuse me_ , Ash, but how was I supposed to enjoy myself when every time she even _moved_ on the damn thing you were leaning over me trying to save the fucking day?"

"It's not even _about_ you, Luke, she could've _died_ , probably." Ashton rebuts, frowning. "And don't swear!"

Luke laughs in disbelief, throwing his hands up in defeat. "They're _caged in_ carts, Ash, nobody was going to die!"

Michael chooses then to make his reappearance, meeting Calum's amused gaze through their friends' playful banter. He makes a sleeping face, likely to insinuate Bella's crashed from her sugar high and fallen asleep, and Calum chuckles at him.

He extends his hand, heart lurching when Michael makes his way across the living room to take it, kissing Calum's fingers before wrapping his arm over his shoulders and pulling the brunette into him. Calum breathes him in, Michael’s cologne still familiar even though it'd always been buried under the stench of weed and sex when they were younger, and he's never been happier in his life than he is with Isabella curled up in Calum’s bed down the hall, with his closest friends in love right in front of him, and with his boy right beside him through it all.

 

He wakes up again with Michael's arm around his middle, only this time Michael's climbing out of the bed. He turns over, confused, but he says nothing when he realizes why Michael's getting up so early.

Isabella's in the doorway, clutching her stomach with damp cheeks. She's crying, sucking in air every now and then, and Michael looks like he's hurting just as badly as she is when he rushes over to her.

"Rockstar, baby, c'mon. Bathroom," Michael whispers to her, resting his hand on her back and leading her down the hall. Calum doesn't even have time to worry about if Bella saw them lying together or not. She'd looked to be in too much pain to care, and Calum can't really bring himself to think about something as insignificant as being discovered right now.

Instead, he shoots out of bed as well, following the two of them down to the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

Bella's hunched over the toilet, Michael holding her dirty blonde hair back as the poor thing heaves into the bowl. Michael looks up at Calum as soon as the boy's in the doorway, an apologetic expression on his face.

"She said she didn't feel good," Michael explains, pulling back some tendrils of her curls that have fallen loose. "I think it's probably food poisoning from the park."

Calum nods, stepping forward into the bathroom and filling one of the empty cups Mali keeps on the counter with water from the sink. He waits for Bella to be done, offering her the drink when she rights herself and faces him with her wet cheeks.

"Hurts, Cal." She tells him, taking the glass and swallowing down small sips. Michael flushes the toilet and its contents down while Calum rubs soothing circles into her back.

"I know, Princess. It's no fun being sick." He comforts, giving her a quick hug. She drapes herself over him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face into his collarbone. "Wanna go lay back down, Bells?"

She nods silently, curling up more pathetically, and Calum almost coos in sympathy.

"Come on, sweetheart. You can sleep in Aunt Mali's bed with your daddy, okay?" He offers, and Bella just nods again, seemingly exhausted and incapable of words. He carries her down the hall and into Mali's room where he and Michael had crashed unintentionally, laying her down on what had been his side of the bed. She curls into the covers weakly, and it breaks Calum's heart to know she's not feeling well.

Michael walks in after them, a refilled glass in his hand that he sets down on the nightstand. "I can sleep on the couch, if you want. She's gonna be up and down all night, so—"

Calum waves him off. "You'll need the bed if that's the case. Besides, I've got my own room, it's no big deal. I'll see you guys in the morning, yeah?"

Michael nods tiredly, cupping Calum's jaw and kissing him gently. It's nice to know they can just _do_ that, can kiss just because they feel the need to, and Calum almost explodes with happiness.

"Goodnight, Calum." Michael whispers into the small space between them before Calum steals another chaste peck and exits the room for good.

******

It's true, Bella's up _all_ night, and Calum hears it every time she scampers past his bedroom door with Michael at her heels, and he hears every time the toilet flushes. After the third time, Calum starts getting out of bed with them, sitting down on the floor next to Michael and holding Bella's hand while she throws up.

It's scary for her, he can tell, because she's never been through something like food poisoning and she's never been in such pain before. Calum's heart breaks for her, it really does.

It continues until the morning, when she finally collapses on the couch, exhausted and spent. Calum watches from the kitchenette when Michael lies down beside her, running his fingers through her messy hair and humming a song Calum doesn't immediately recognize.

"Think she'll want some broth?" Calum asks quietly.

Michael glances up, nodding slowly so as not to wake Bella. "Yeah, babe, that'd be great."

Calum's heart pounds harder at the affectionate nickname, smiling and reaching for a bowl. While he's pouring the broth into it, he hears Michael singing lowly to his daughter, with words this time that tell him it's Isn’t She Lovely. He almost tears up, watching lovingly as Michael curls his face in her hair and sings directly into her ear.

And it's in that moment that he realizes there's nowhere else he wants to be, _ever_ , than here with Michael and Isabella. He can just _see_ them, six more years down the road with Bella entering Year Five and Michael waking up beside him every morning. It's all he could ever dream of wanting.

He pulls out his phone the second after that, pulling up his flight app and canceling the plane ticket he has booked to go back to Melbourne next week. It's a satisfying thing, to have that off his shoulders, and he makes a note to send in his letter of resignation at his office back there within the next 24 hours.

For now, though, he just walks into the living room with the bowl of broth, setting it down on the coffee table to cool as he sits down cross legged on the floor.

"Mike," he murmurs, and Michael brings his head up to peer over the edge of the couch at him. He looks sleepy, like he'd finally been about to catch some Z's for the first time since two in the morning. Calum will let him as soon as he's done talking.

"Yeah?" Michael asks groggily.

Calum reaches up, brushing some of Michael's messy hair out of his eyes. It's getting long; he could probably do with a trim. He should dye it something fun, maybe, too, like red or blue.

"I'm going to stay," Calum tells him, loving the way Michael grins from ear to ear and quirks an eyebrow.

"Stay?" Michael teases, even though he's pretty sure Michael knows exactly what he means.

"In Sydney. Just cancelled my ticket." Calum elaborates, smoothing his thumb over the apple of Michael's cheek. "Will you have me?"

Calum already knows that Michael has him, that Michael needs him and wouldn't leave him. But what he's asking for is something a little bit bigger. He's asking Michael if he'll have him for Isabella, if he'll let Calum join their little family so he can call it his own, too. Because he feels so much like it is. All he needs now is to hear Michael confirm that.

Michael turns his head, kissing Calum's fingers before nipping at them gently.

"Of course we will, Cal." He says, and Calum's never been more in love with him than he is right now.

A week after that morning on the couch is Isabella's fifth birthday, meaning she's being more of a handful than usual. She's having her party at a local skating rink, and apparently she requested to invite all of her friends from preschool to it.

The party's scheduled to start in an hour, yet they're still rushing around Michael's apartment, struggling to get everything together since it's likely they won't be home all day. Michael's currently busy stuffing last minute party favors and decorations into bags that he's setting by the door, while Calum's sat on the edge of the bathtub, Bella seated between his legs facing away from him. He's combing through her curls, apologizing softly with pats to her scalp every time she flinches.

"Sorry, Princess," he whispers to her after an unintentionally hard yank, his words slurred from the barrettes he's holding between his teeth.

Bella doesn't reply, just picks at her polished nails that Michael did for her as an early present last night. She'd been ecstatic, feeling completely grown up as she showed them off to Calum the second Michael told her they were dry.

He's working through another section of her hair, trying to figure out the best way to achieve a braid with her wild mane, when Michael walks into the bathroom. His face falls when he sees Calum hasn't gotten anywhere in Bella's hair, shoulders slumping as he sighs and shoos Calum out of the way. Michael immediately takes to expertly running his fingers through her hair, twisting it into something acceptable that he's probably done for her a million times.

"Bab—uh, I mean, Cal, can you go grab the cake from the fridge? We have to be out the door in, like, five minutes." Michael says quickly, tying a hair band around the end of the braid and giving Bella a quick kiss on her temple before she gets up to inspect his work in the mirror.

Calum couldn't help but feel like he'd officially been inducted into the family when Michael had asked him to pick out a present and card for them both to give to Bella, but he feels that twice as strongly today, on her actual birthday. Today, he's part of all the festivities, and they both want him there, and they both act like it'd be completely unnatural for him _not_ to be.

He retrieves the bright pink cake like Michael had asked him to, waiting by the door for a few seconds before the blonde boy and his daughter emerge from the bathroom to join him. Michael grabs all the bags, locking the door behind them as they start towards the car.

Bella clambers into the back seat as soon as Michael's unlocked the vehicle, leaving them to hoist the bags and cake into the trunk by themselves. (It's okay, though, because with the shield of the raised trunk blocking the back window, Bella doesn't see when they sneak in their first kiss of the day.)

******

"You're late," Mali says as soon as the three of them walk into the rink thirty minutes later. She's right, there's already several kids gathered around their reserved tables, but Calum still sticks his tongue out at her before giving her a quick hug in greeting.

"Thanks for coming." He tells her, and she smiles before shrugging.

"Of course," she replies, face lighting up as soon as she sees Isabella. "Hey, sweet pea! Happy birthday!" Mali lowers herself down to her knees, letting Bella attack her with a bear hug. When she pulls away, Mali frowns, raising her hand to pick at Bella's hair. "This braid won't hold for even an hour. C'mon, I'll redo it at the table, yeah?"

Bella nods excitedly, probably just loving the idea of being doted on all day. "Thanks, auntie!" She squeals, taking Mali's hand and tugging her in the direction of the tables. Mali shoots Calum and Michael a quirked eyebrow over her shoulder, but she's smirking regardless.

"Auntie?" Calum asks, turning slightly to face Michael.

The blonde laughs softly, shaking his head. "Don't know. You _did_ refer to her as Aunt Mali the other day, though," he points out.

Calum furrows his eyebrows. He hadn't realized it then, but now that Michael mentions it, he _had_ called her Aunt Mali that night Bella was sick. He also hadn't really accounted for what that slip up might mean, referring to his sister as Bella's family. It means he's also family, and he knows Bella's too smart to overlook that. And so is Michael.

"Does that bother you?" Calum asks, looking up at Michael through his lashes.

The question looks like it shocks Michael, what with the way he jumps a little and looks down at Calum with slightly widened eyes. "Why would that bother me?"

Calum shrugs. "I just don't want you to think I'm overstepping."

Michael shakes his head, brushing some brown locks out of Calum's eyes. "You know I don't think that, babe. Now come on, let's not be so serious, one of us has to take Izzy out for her first skate." The wink he gives Calum afterwards tells him he wants the brunette to be the one to do it, and Calum can't help but nod and smile.

Mali's finished redoing Bella's braid by the time they reach the tables, and she's taken to helping the birthday girl lace up her roller skates. Bella's absolutely vibrating with excitement, looking up at Michael with bright eyes and a wide smile.

"Those look _sweet_ , Rockstar," Michael tells her, and Bella giggles.

"Thanks, daddy," she says, standing up and wobbling as the wheels roll a bit. Calum chuckles, reaching out to steady her and squeezing her hands when she looks up at him adoringly. "Skate with me!" She tells him, and Calum grins.

"I'll get my skates on, okay? Sit tight, Bells," he says fondly, kissing her forehead before helping her to a seat and heading off towards the skate rental.

He's in the middle of thanking the clerk when he sees Mali with Michael, off in the corner where the people at the party can't see them but Calum can. She's got her hand on his shoulder, her upper body leaned close as she tells him something that seems urgent and sincere. Michael's just nodding and keeping his mouth shut, which makes Calum wonder if she's lecturing him again.

Their conversation seemingly comes to an end before Calum can approach them, though, so he decides not to push it. Instead, he laces up and rolls over to the tables, taking Bella's hand and escorting her as she attempts to skate over to the rink with him.

It takes nearly fifteen minutes of holding onto the walls of the rink before Bella even remotely gets the hang of skating, but Calum can't complain when he sees the massive smile plastered on her face the first time she propels herself forward completely on her own.

Calum cheers, clapping his hands and holding out his arms for her while he skates backwards so she can roll into them. She's still giggling wildly when he scoops her up, spinning them while he kisses her cheek.

"Look at you, Bells, you did great!" Calum praises, rolling them over to one of the benches just outside the rink and plopping down to catch his breath. She sits beside him, still giddy, waving to a couple of her friends as they skate by with their parents.

He's fixing his slightly sweaty hair when she speaks next, but he's not expecting her to say what she does.

"Are you going to date my daddy?" She asks nonchalantly, not even looking up at him for his answer. Instead, she's playing with the wheels on her skates, like what he'll reply with isn't even remotely important.

Not that he really knows _what_ to say to that. He's sort of lost for words, mouth gaped open but no sound coming out. He coughs a little as if that will satisfy her, but of course it doesn't, and she only gears up to ask him again.

"I don't know, Bells." He says, even though he _does_ know. "How would you feel about it if I did?"

Bella just shrugs, looking up at him through her bangs that Mali left loose and out of the braid. He reaches out to swoop them slightly out of the way so he can see her eyes better; the ones identical to Michael's.

"He likes you lots." She says matter-of-factly, wrinkling her nose when Calum accidentally brushes it with his fingertip. He chuckles at her, tugging teasingly on her braid.

"I like him a lot, too, Princess," Calum admits, heart swelling with the confession.

She grins, satisfied, before she pipes up again. "Do you _love_ him?"

It's a very innocent question, really, since Isabella's so young and doesn't understand the depth of what true romantic love means. But the fact that she's so adamant leads Calum to believe she already knows the answer, even if she doesn't totally grasp it.

"Yeah, I think so." He says quietly, almost more to himself. But Bella hears him all the same, and she seems ecstatic with that response.

"How about me? Do you love me?"

Calum smiles widely, pulling her into his side and kissing the top of her head. "Yeah, angel. I love you." That one's effortless to admit out loud, because his love for her is so unconditional he almost feels like he's never _not_ loved her.

He's not entirely ready for it when she says "Good, 'cause I love you, too," but he still hugs her tight like he already knew that she did.

******

They head back to Michael's apartment several hours later, with Bella conked out in the backseat of the car, exhausted from hours on her feet and contented with birthday cake in her stomach. Michael's driving, one hand on the steering wheel and the other clasped with Calum's like they seem to do every time they drive together since that night they had dinner with Luke and Ashton.

"Your sister talked to me at the party," Michael says softly, the only other sounds in the car being Bella's gentle snoring and the click of the blinker.

Calum nods. "Yeah, I saw that. What did she say?"

The blonde boy huffs out a laugh, one that sounds somewhat surprised and relieved. "She, uh, she said she forgave me? That, like, as long as you were with me she was willing to look past everything because it was clear I was going to be around for awhile."

The brunette beams, looking over at Michael as he pulls up to the apartment. Michael doesn't look back until the car is in park, but his face is just as happy as Calum's when he does.

"I've never been this happy before, Mike." Calum confesses, tears fogging his vision while Michael reaches over the console to caress his neck. "We finally got it _right_."

Michael smiles, leaning over to kiss Calum's cheek incredibly lightly. "Come on, you sap. Let's unload."

Calum laughs, glancing into the backseat when Bella starts to wake up. She opens her eyes groggily, smiling when she sees the two of them looking back at her.

"Hey, Rockstar," Michael coos, reaching back to run the pads of his fingers down her cheek. "You look beat. Want Calum to take you to bed?"

Isabella nods tiredly, unbuckling her seatbelt and slowly climbing out of the booster seat. Calum gets out of the car, greeting her when she joins him on the sidewalk. She keeps a hold on her new doll—one that Mali had gotten her—using her free hand to take Calum's when he leads her up to the door.

He looks back once to make sure Michael's doing okay, finding him already starting up the path behind them. He's got a couple of presents in his hands, so Calum holds the front door open for him while he passes through.

Bella's already disappeared to her bedroom to change, so Calum sets to helping Michael arrange the presents in the living room corner. She'll want to play with them more tomorrow morning before the barbecue at Calum's parents' house, so they don't bother stowing them away just yet.

When they're stacked neatly, Michael stands back up, stretching and causing them both to laugh when his spine pops horrendously. He removes his jacket and holds his hand out for Calum's, which the brunette shrugs out of before handing over.

He's still sitting on the floor of the living room, his back against the base of the couch and his feet stuck out in front of him, when Bella reemerges. She's holding her teddy bear and blanket, dressed in what Calum's learned to be her favorite lilac nightgown. Her little fist comes up to rub at her eye while she yawns, and Calum about melts inside as he opens his arms for a hug.

Isabella falls into it, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing back tightly. She smells like sugar—likely the cake—and he can't help but think that it suits her, because she's so sweet.

"Going to bed, Princess?" Calum asks her softly when she pulls away, yanking at the hair tie holding her braid together. She nods in response before Calum reaches up and removes the tie for her, coaxing the curls loose from the tight design Mali had given her.

She seems to relax further with her hair undone, smiling sleepily at Calum by means of a thank you.

"I'll see you at the barbie tomorrow, yeah?" Calum reassures her, leaning up to give her a soft kiss on the nose. "Now go on to sleep, Bells. Happy birthday."

Isabella blushes, turning and heading for the hallway. Michael's reentering the room from where he'd been hanging up the coats, so he's another firsthand witness to when Bella stops, turns around, and says to Calum, "Good night, Papa."

She scampers off to her room before Calum can even open his mouth, but he imagines he'd still be speechless even if she'd stayed. He doesn't know what to say, because she'd said the words _right to him_ , there's no pretending they were maybe for Michael. No, they were for Calum, and for some reason, he doesn't want to correct her.

A sniffling sound brings Calum back to the moment, and when he looks up to assess Michael's reaction to the whole thing, he finds the older boy _crying_. His cheeks are damp and there's a hand over his mouth, and he's looking at Calum like he's so in love he doesn't know what to do with it all.

"Mikey," Calum croaks, still in shock, and Michael just removes his hand to reveal a stupidly happy smile. And Calum realizes his tears are of joy, he's _happy_ about what Bella called him, and that's what makes Calum dart to his feet.

He's hardly even balanced himself before Michael's on him, kissing him hard like it's the last time he'll ever get to (which is far from the truth; Calum imagines there'll be thousands of kisses after this). Calum just gives it all back, fisting his hands in Michael's hair and gripping tightly so that he can't get away.

Only, he thinks that this time, Michael isn't even _dreaming_ of getting away from him.

"She called you _papa_ ," Michael whimpers between kisses, breaking away to nip along Calum's jaw before holding his lips against the boy's tanned cheek. He leaves them there while he breathes slowly, trying to even himself out, and Calum just attempts to breathe with him.

"Is that okay?" Calum whispers back, just to make sure, and Michael nods before the question's really even finished.

"Yeah. Yeah, Cal, that's fucking okay." He sounds wrecked, like he can't handle it, but then he's kissing Calum again. It's slow and sure and it definitely has a purpose behind it. Calum guesses that's _why_ it's slow, because Michael's testing the waters to see if Calum's up for it.

(It's the most up for it Calum's ever been.)

Calum kisses him more firmly, pushing back so that Michael stumbles in the direction of the hallway. He gets it, though, righting himself and walking backwards in the direction of his bedroom.

Calum's never been in Michael's bedroom before, so he takes a moment to look around as soon as the blonde boy opens the door. Unlike back in high school, he actually lets Calum do so, lets him snoop around just a bit and admire some framed photos on the wall while he shuts the door behind them.

Eventually he becomes too aware of the very real possibility that they're going to have sex, so he stops looking around and opts for facing Michael instead. The blonde smiles gently at him, almost shyly, and Calum steps back into his space to kiss at his jaw.

"Cal," Michael ghosts, trailing his fingers down Calum's waist before dipping up under his shirt, rubbing fondly at the skin there. Calum's breath hitches at being touched by Michael again, something he hasn't known for a few years short of a decade, and he finds himself sucking on the skin below Michael's ear to ground himself. Michael just whines lowly at the feeling, rolling his hips forward and into Calum's, punching soft noises from both of their chests.

"C'mon. Bed." Calum says offhandedly, leaning back to tug up on Michael's shirt. He gets the message, lifting his arms so that Calum can slide it off of him before tossing it across the room.

"Pants, first." Michael counteroffers, pressing his thumb firmly over the line of Calum's zipper. It feels sinfully good against his cock, which is getting harder by the second like he's seventeen again and has that same metabolism. It also stings a bit, a rough friction pushing the boundaries between good and uncomfortable, but that's a line Calum _loves_ to dance along. He liked it back then, he almost lives by it now. He thinks Michael probably still knows that, if the cocky smirk on his face is anything to go by.

Calum pushes him away teasingly, fumbling with his belt. "Okay, okay. Don't be so pushy." He tugs at the button and undoes the zip, sliding the jeans down his legs before kicking them over by Michael's shirt. He watches as Michael does the same, smiling dumbly at the bulge in the blonde's underwear when the briefest exclamation of ' _mine_ ' flashes through his brain.

Michael's on him again instantly, pushing him back towards the bed until the backs of his knees hit the edge of it and forces him to fall backwards. Michael climbs up over him, straddling his waist and bowing his back fucking beautifully as he bends down to bury his face in Calum's neck.

This is Calum's favorite part—it always has been, the part where Michael marks him up and makes Calum _his_. It was his trademark when they fooled around in high school, but it doesn't seem like so much of a possession thing at this point. Now it seems like it's a reminder for Michael himself, like seeing the bruises as they form lets him know where he's at and who he's with.

"I missed you so bad, baby," Michael pants into the abused skin once he's finished a particularly rough lovebite, licking flatly over it to soothe while Calum takes in his words.

"I missed you, too, Mikey." Calum replies sincerely, trailing his hand up over Michael's bare back and gripping hard at his shoulder. "I missed you so bad I felt like I wasn't even living, some days."

Michael hums in what sounds like agreement, bringing his mouth back up to press against Calum's. His teeth nip lightly at the brunette's bottom lip, tugging gently before coaxing his tongue between them. Calum eagerly opens up, wrapping his arms around Michael's neck and grinding his hips up into the blonde's.

Michael moans against him, reaching down between them to cup Calum through his briefs. He squeezes around the outline of his cock gently, smirking when Calum keens and breaks away to whine.

"We have to be quiet, baby. Being loud isn't a luxury we have anymore." Michael explains lowly, barely loud enough for Calum to even hear, but he guesses that's the point. Bella's asleep just down the hall, and waking her isn't something either of them is particularly interested in.

So Calum nods quickly in agreement, biting down on his lip when Michael presses his palm flat and rubs firmly over Calum's cock. He's already leaking in his underwear, he can _feel_ it, but he doesn't say anything because he knows he can hold out and because he'll do anything to make this last as long as possible. It's their first time together again; he can't bring himself to rush through it. They have to relearn each other.

Michael continues to palm him, pressing fluttery kisses to Calum's collarbones and neck as he does so. The brunette shudders underneath the assault, arching his chest up and gasping when Michael creeps his free hand up under Calum’s shirt to rub a thumb over his nipple.

"Fuck," Calum breathes, letting his eyes slip shut as Michael literally covers him in caresses. He only opens them when he feels Michael tugging at the collar of Calum's shirt, finding Michael looking down at him with questioning eyes.

"Can I take this off?" He asks, and Calum nods, scooting further up the bed as he removes the shirt from his torso. He flings it to the side, spreading his legs for Michael as the boy eagerly climbs between them.

The older boy pauses for a moment, his eyes honed in on Calum's lower half, and it makes Calum want to curl in on himself in self consciousness. He's about to, but Michael pins him down, running the pad of his thumb over a scar on his hip, and— _oh_.

The cigarette burn.

Ever since Michael administered it that night back in high school, the mark had been etched on Calum's skin, smooth and scarred. There's another one on his thigh, but he doesn't bother pointing it out because he knows Michael remembers its exact location like he remembers his own name. It’s something Calum knows he’ll never forget.

"I'm so sorry," Michael murmurs, bending in half to plant an apologetic kiss over the slightly pink tissue.

Calum sighs, tugging on Michael's hair so that the boy will look up at him. When their eyes meet, Calum shakes his head slowly. "Don't apologize. I wanted them there forever, right? They helped me remember you."

Michael looks like he's been kicked, a broken noise escaping his mouth. "How can that be good, Cal? Remembering me like _that_?"

Calum shakes his head again, pulling Michael back up so that they're face to face and chest to chest, pressing repeated kisses to his worried mouth. "Doesn't matter what you were like. I loved you, you idiot. I was going to remember you no matter what."

The blonde almost seems like he can't believe that for even a second, but his next words contradict that. "I loved you, too, you know. I always have, I think, ever since you followed me up to the bedroom that first night."

"Me too," Calum whispers, smiling when Michael's shoulders sink in relief. He imagines Michael feels pounds lighter, getting those words off of his chest after all this time. He leans up, trailing his lips by Michael's ear as he whispers, "Now show me how much you loved me."

"Love." Michael corrects. "How much I _love_ you. Present tense."

Calum beams, kissing Michael's temple gently before pulling away. "Love, then. Show me how much you _love_ me."

Michael stops messing around, then, sitting up and rolling over towards his nightstand. It takes quite a bit of rummaging around in the drawer before he finds what he's looking for, but eventually he rolls back between Calum's legs with a bottle of lube and a couple condoms that clearly wouldn't cooperate in detaching properly. Calum laughs, because it's so _them_ , before he tilts his hips up to slide his underwear off.

The older boy inhales deep before emitting a slow downward whistle, trailing a hand from Calum's chest down to just beside his cock. Calum almost wants to rotate his hips to get some contact, but he refrains because he likes the look in Michael's eyes a bit more.

"You're just as beautiful as I remember," Michael murmurs, smiling appreciatively up at Calum. The brunette blushes, turning his face to the side but grinning nonetheless.

He feels Michael pushing his legs a bit further apart and he obliges, spreading them eagerly and gasping just a bit when he hears the lube uncapping. It's been a while since he was with someone, so he knows it'll be a bit of a feat, but he also thinks there's nobody more worth going through that with than Michael.

The first boy he ever kissed. Ever cried over. Ever loved.

"I love you," Calum says again, because he can't _not_ say it now that he's allowed, and when he sneaks a glance to gauge Michael's reaction, he finds the boy smiling to himself. He doesn't even know Calum's watching, and that's the best part.

"I love you," Michael mimics back, rolling the lube in between his fingers to warm it up. Then, he settles back on his ankles, positioning Calum's legs so that the backs of his thighs rest over the tops of Michael's.

He closes his eyes and inhales sharply when he feels Michael work the first finger in, but Michael uses his free hand to soothe over his hip, and it helps him to relax.

"Look at me, sweetheart. Let me see your eyes, they're my favorite." Michael instructs, and Calum's always been weak for an order, so he pulls his eyes open even though they feel pounds heavier than they are. His eyes meet Michael's lidded ones that are clouded with lust, but it doesn't seem to be in the bad way this time. Just like he can't get enough of how Calum makes him feel.

Michael slides a second finger in beside the first when Calum's not really paying attention and it starts to feel a little more familiar, a little _better_. He relaxes into the mattress, gripping the headboard above his head to keep his hands occupied. Michael keeps on scissoring his fingers, stretching him open thoroughly and mostly ignoring his prostate altogether. Calum _knows_ he knows where it is, knows he's just avoiding it to make the grand finale that much better.

The third finger is sort of just liability, because Calum's already whining for it by the time Michael's finishing up with the first two. So halfway through Michael's little wiggle-thrust routine, Calum moans from his chest and rolls his eyes when Michael slaps his free hand over Calum's mouth to shut him up.

"Be quiet, remember? I'll fuck you, baby, you don't have to worry about that. You know I'll fuck you." Michael scolds, removing his fingers and wiping them off on the mattress before reaching down to remove his own boxers. He'll have to wash the sheets later, Calum realizes, then almost laughs when he pieces together how utterly domestic that sounds.

He's surprised when he actually giggles, looking up at Michael afterwards, who's quirking an eyebrow while he tears open a condom foil.

"What's funny?" Michael asks.

Calum shrugs. "Was thinking about doing laundry with you. Cooking dinner. PTA meetings."

Michael laughs. "Oh _yeah_ , baby. Keep talking dirty. You know that domestic shit turns me on."

Calum snorts, slapping Michael's chest weakly, but he's grinning nonetheless. "You love that domestic shit."

The blonde leans down to kiss Calum’s nose gently. "That's true. But only with you."

"Only me, huh?"

Michael shrugs and nods like it's obvious. "Well, yeah. Like, I'd marry you so hard.”

Calum's eyes widen, and he laughs a bit in disbelief. He still sounds overly fond, though, when he asks, "You want to get _married_?"

Michael pauses to think about it, furrowing his brows and biting his lip in thought. A few seconds later, though, he nods affirmatively before rolling the condom down over his cock. "Not yet. But, like, eventually, probably."

" _Probably_?" Calum asks, offended. "You have to be, like, at _least_ ninety five percent sure you want to marry someone, Mike, it doesn't work with a probably. You have to be _sure_."

Michael leans down over him, a hand on either side of Calum's head when he whispers softly, "I'm sure I'm in _love_ with you, though. Is that enough for now?"

Calum's about to make some snide remark about how that's not entirely relevant, but then Michael's pushing into him, a _burnstretchburn_ he hasn't experienced in quite some time, and all that comes out is a groan of " _Y-yeah_. Fuck, that's enough for now. That's enough for _forever_."

The blonde smirks, shifting his weight to his forearms so he can kiss Calum while he starts to thrust into him with an actual rhythm. Calum kisses back hungrily, wrapping his legs around Michael's waist and rolling his hips up to get him deeper.

He finds Calum's prostate nearly instantly, and then the brunette's arching up off the bed and vibrating with pleasure. "You're still so good at this," Calum whimpers.

Michael chuckles, nuzzling his nose against Calum's. "I remember almost everything about this part. Could make you come with my eyes shut, probably."

Calum attempts to roll his eyes, but they end up rolling to the back of his head instead when Michael shifts one of Calum's legs up over his shoulder and changes the angle.

"Could probably make me come just by _talking_ to me, while you're bullshitting," Calum admits, and decides it was an excellent confession to make when Michael moans like he can't even help it and pounds into Calum like he doesn't even care if it were to break him.

"We're _totally_ fucking trying that one day," Michael declares, voice gruff and raw with sex like it always gets. Calum loves the familiarity of this part, the part he always knew best about Michael. Only now he knows about other parts of his life and knows that he can tell Michael he loves him and knows that _Michael won’t leave_.

It's the fact that they have forever—that no force in the world can break them apart this time, because they're so in love they've created their _own_ force—that sends Calum over the edge. He nearly bends in half with the force of his orgasm, mouth dropped open on a broken moan before he feels Michael still deep inside him as he follows Calum over. They tumble through it together, eyes locked, and he knows he hears Michael's repeated whispers of "I love you, Cal, I fucking love you so much", and he knows he hears himself murmuring them back.

Later, when they're cleaned up and facing each other while they lay beneath the covers, Calum tells him again.

And Michael still says it back, still kisses him and tells him it's never been anyone else, and that it never _will be_ anyone else.

Calum wakes up to the sound of the television flicking on in the next room, and for a moment he almost reaches for his phone to text Mali and tell her to turn it down.

But then he feels the heavy arm around his waist, the one that's pale like milk and tattooed just slightly, he realizes it's not Mali in the living room watching TV, but _Bella_ , and he shoots up.

Michael stirs beside him, waking almost as soon as Calum has sat up, and he looks at Calum quizzically through his fingers. "Why are you not snuggling me?" He asks, offended.

Calum rolls his eyes, reaching for his phone to check the time. He almost has a heart attack when he sees it's already ten, because the barbecue he'd told his family they'd attend starts at noon, and it takes Michael a few hours just to get their little family of two (and now three, by the looks of things. They'll cross that bridge when they get to it) out the door at all.

"We need to get up. Plans today," Calum reminds him, sighing when Michael's eyes slip closed again. "What are we telling Bells?" Calum asks more solemnly.

Michael wakes right up then, sitting up after a moment to be face to face with Calum. He leans over, resting his chin on Calum's naked shoulder and looking up at him from there. He presses his lips repeatedly into the skin, eventually bringing it up to Calum's jaw and cheek. Calum giggles, squirming away from the touch playfully, but Michael only rolls over the brunette and pins him on his back. He smiles down at the younger boy, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips that holds all the reassurance he didn't know he needed until that moment.

"We won't say anything yet. She already knows you love her, and she adores you right back. Last night made that pretty fucking obvious. I think maybe we just let her ask us on her own." Michael suggests, and Calum nods in agreement.

"For now, though, we need to get up before she sees. I don't need her first real memory of us together being naked kisses in bed." Calum laughs when Michael pouts, and then he kisses the disappointed frown away. "Besides, we need to be at my parents' place in two hours. So get to it."

Michael rolls his eyes, resting their foreheads together before he whispers "I love you," into the air between them, and Calum's breath gets taken away so quickly he barely has enough to say it back.

******

The Hood Family barbecue is an annual end-of-summer event, one that's been going on ever since Calum can remember. Everyone from the entire neighborhood always came, as did any of their friends and family. Usually, that meant close to a hundred people, and this year is no different.

They show up half an hour late, of _course_ they do, but nobody really seems to mind. Mali just greets them with big hugs and kisses on their cheeks before she eagerly sets to styling Bella's hair again.

Michael's parents are there, and Calum introduces himself as formally as possible. Michael's mother looks at him with a glimmer in her eyes that tells him she remembers when he came to the door that summer, when Michael pulled him up the stairs to keep him a secret, but she knew. Mothers always do.

Calum's parents give Calum adoring smiles when they see Michael's arm around his shoulders. When they see the way they look at each other and kiss like they think nobody's watching.

Luke and Ashton greet them with hugs and slaps on the back, and then greet Bella with excited smiles and high fives. They announce they're going to look into adoption after the wedding, and Calum almost cries when he pulls his best friend since childhood in for an even tighter hug after that news gets broken.

Michael and Calum drink their beers and stand under the old tree they'd sat under all those years ago when Michael told him he was leaving Sydney. It's been trimmed down so many times since that summer, though, that Calum's willing to bet not a single leaf on that tree currently was a witness to that moment.

It might not always be fine, the way that they treated each other back in high school. But it's fine for now, in this moment, as Michael grabs his hand and holds it in the sunlight, in front of both their families, with _their_ daughter flaunting her new braid around and causing everyone to swoon over her.

It restarts because Calum and Michael fell in love all over again, and it restarts because this time, that and Isabella are the only plans they have.

**Author's Note:**

> hang out with me on [tumblr](http://dafeedil.tumblr.com/)!


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